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gaint Mary's School Library 

3- 7 e>.3 


- I~£ 

L. I. 







devoted to Music, 


and the Interests of St. 











i Subscription. — One 

lijits. Single numbers 5 cents. 

copy ; 

per term, 25 

Correspondence solicited. 
Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 
' All matters on busing s should be addressed 
i Department of Music. St. Mary's School. 

K The next number of Tn Muse, in maga- 
zine form, will appear about June 15th. 
The yearly subscription price will remain 
jhe same. Old scholars, and all interested 
in educational work, are earnestly requested 
K) send us communications and snch articles 
is will be of interest to the readers of The 




Is it the echoes of sighs, long past, 

Which have shaken the grief tossed heart? 

Or whispers it rather, of joys, which at last, 
From the ashes of dead hopes start ? 

Is it a murmur 'gainst Fate's decrees, 

That ceaseless monotone ! 
Breathing amidst those grand old trees, 

Which shivering, sigh and moan? 

Each hears a different message given, 
As we list to the whispering breeze, 

Which like an angel's voice from heaven, 
Ever murmurs amidst the trees! 

Then ask not what the wild winds say, 
In their whisper, strange and low, 

'Mid the old pines, whicli with slumbrous 
Mimic the soft wave's flow! 

But let thy heart the message read, 

And be sure 'tis read aright ; 
Whether it tells of the victor's meed, 

Or some bright hope crushed in night ! 

What are the wild winds saying, 

In their whisper, strange and low, 
?Mid the pine, which with slumbrous swav- 

I ing, 
Mimic the soft wave's flow. 

Do they tell of a home in a distant land, 
Of a heart, (its treasures buried), 

Which ever looks back to that vanishing- 
And recks not whither 'tis hurried? 

o they whisper the purpose, strong* and 

Of a will, which will do or die? 
)r speak they of peace to the struggling soul, 
Of Rest in a home on high? 


In order to circulate the Muse among 
those interested in educational work, we 
make the following liberal offer: Any one 
sending 50 cents for a year's subscription to 
the Muse, can obtain from us, without fur- 
ther charge, 50 cents worth of music, which 
will be mailed free to any address. The 
music may be selected from any catalogue in 
the United States or Europe. The usual dis- 
count allowed to teachers. Scholars will find 
it to their advantage to order music from us. 
Orders filled to any amount. Special terms 
given for large amounts. 

Address, WILL H. SANBORN, 
Director of Department of Music, 
St. Mary's School. Raleigh, N. C. 



On Friday of the third week after Easter, 
while yet the joy <jf the Great Feast lingered 
with us, Bishop Lyman came to celebrate the 
Apostolic rite of "Laying on of Hands." 

The candidates were eight in number. As 
they knelt around the church rail, "by holy 
hands o'ershadowed," their white robes sym- 
bolizing the freshness and purity of their 
youth, the solemn beauty and appropriate- 
ness of the service came home to our hearts 
with deep impressiveness. When the Bishop 
moved on from one to another in succession, 
and prayed God to defend this J [is child 
with heavenly grace, and invoked the daily 
increase of the Holy Spirit within her, with 
one heart and one mind, "all the people said 
' Amen.' " 

His address was lull of godly counsel and 
cheer, and must have stirred the hearts of 
those young "soldiers" to fight manfully un- 
der the banner of the Cross, until the time 
shall come when there shall he no more war 
and the Cross shall he crowned with palms 
of victory and buds of never ending peace. 

We take this method of acknowledging 

the courtesy recently paid us in the musical 
tones of a delightful serenade. 

The strains of the harpers were so entran- 
cing that even in the witching hours of the 
night, we longed to rise for an impromptu 
fairies' waltz, or witches' dance, or whatever 
new steps might have come to our excited 
fancy. But stern dormitory rules are too 
strong and inflexible to yield even to the en- 
chantment of a serenade. So in unmitigated 
darkness, we listened, enjoyed, wished we 
<-oiild do as we pleased, and slept again to 
dream that the honors of graduation had set 
us free, and life stretched before us a pro- 
longed mingling of "moonlight, music, love 
and dowers." 

The claims of the first day of the " merry 
month" were not forgotten, by some of the 
Juniors, at least. 

A pic-nic, if not a coronation, was en regie, 
and determined on. So under the kindly 
conduct of a teacher, who was pressed into the 
service by their importunity, some ten or 
twelve braved the threatening clouds of the 
May-day skies, and went off with well-filled 
!>askets and a plentiful supply of the best sort 
spirits. But as Jack and Jill met with an 
ominious fate, (nobody could guess our 
i issical riddle in the April Muse, so we will 
Imve to tell the answer) so did our pleasure 
seekers. In about three hours, the most for- 
lorn looking set of dripping females came 
IJi ••ro-lincr in bereft of »]] the inei 

haustilile spirits which serveA good 
in the merry home consumption of wl" 
left in the baskets. They declared tj i 
was all the better for the drenching, 
don't like cold water and wet blankets, |i 
must wish them brighter skies and 
hours for all future May parties. 

) i 

The next number of the Mese will 
in different shape; as a specimen of w 
wish and intend it to be next year. T 
expected favor with which it has be 
ceived, is a gratifying evidence of the ii 
of our friends, and has enabled us to 
sooner than we dared hope, our \ 
to enlarge and improve it by degrees. 

The interests of St. Mary's will alw 
its primary object; to send out to al ivjhi 
may be interested in our work, a ruclib 
record of current events of iniportai 
interest ; to preserve such efforts of tin 
in all departments of study, as m 
deemed worthy of special commenci 
and to bring to them, from correspoi 
and contributors, a resume of what is hi 
piring in the outer world, and such li' 
compositions as will serve as models foi 
imitation as well as mediums of instri 
and entertainment. 

To this end, the services of authors o 
in the literary world will be called in 
sition, and articles will be selected froi 
best magazines. 





Commencement at Chapel Hill on th 5th 



There are over three hundred stude 
the University of Virginia. 

The girls at the Peace Institute have 
disadvantage inasmuch as their vac 
begins a week before ours. 

The annual Convention of the Dioc< 
now in session at Fayetteville. Our B|c 
is in attendance upon it. 

Steps have been taken to incorporate 
old college of William and Mary, whicl 
never recovered from the disastrous el ;t- 
of the war, with the University of the S th- 
at Sewanee, Tenn 

St. Mary's School at Knoxville, 111., 1 
custom peculiar to itself but worthy of 
tation. On "Anniversary Day" the 
provide a birthday cake, which is brougl 
during the festivities of the evening, g 
decked with tiny flags and ribbons and jr^ 
mounted by one taper f -r e^ery year of 

honl's pvi>1ence. ( Onerv.*FT 





> birthday cake have to be sbould we fol- 
? c w the bright example?) The cake is al- 
leys cut by the "first honor" girl, and the 

f'y is kept as a high holiday. 

dSt. Mary's, individually and collectively, 

ii bewildered by conflicting invitations to 

inmencements and Society Balls; and 

it think, we can't go to any of them because 

e ,r Commencement comes after they are all 

\\ei: But then, we console ourselves with 

juie thought that our friends will all be free 

; r ( come and enjoy the fun with us, and we 

Vejareby tender an invitation to all who have 

^fijivited us, to be present upon any or all of 

*i s ie evenings of Commencement week. 



Old scholars, and particularly those who 

j U 'ift us last year, will take notice that we are 

3 preparing for a reunion of Alumnce, and 

? -jail be disappointed if they do not come in 

(f'rfficient force to make a good beginning of 

f, ie association we would like to see formed. 

St. Mary's has room 

both in dormitory and 

hall — and a warm welcome and 

| earty hospitality await all who come to do 

'Amor to our first distribution of Diplomas, 
tn • r 



j^hey all know that 
lough and to spare- 




I'se a poor 'ittle sorrowful baby, 
For Bridget is way down stairs; 

My titten has scatched my fin'er, 
And Dolly won't say her p'ayers. 

I haint seen my bootiful mamma, 

Since ever so long ado ; 
An' I aint her tunninest baby 

No londer, for Bridget says so. 

Mamma's dot anode new baby; 

Dod dived it — he did — yes'erday, 
And it kies, it kies — oh, so defful, 

I wis' he would tate it away. 

I didn't want no "sweet 'ittle sister," 
I want my dood mamma, I do; 

I want her to tiss me, an' tiss me, 
An' tall me her p'ecious Lulu. 

I dess my dear papa will bin me 
A 'ittle dood titten, some day ; 

Here's nurse wid my mamma's new baby; 
I wis' she would tate it away. 

Oh, oh, what tannin' red fin'ers, 
It sees me 'ite out of its eyes; 

I dess me will teep it, and dive it 
Some canny whenever it kies. 

I dess I will dive it my dolly 
To play wid mos' every day ; 

And I dess, I dess — say, Bridget, 
Ask Dod not to tate it awav. 

Sunday, June 15th. 

Morning Prayer, with Holy Communion. 

Sermon before the school, by the Rev. 
George Patterson, D. D., of Wilmington, 
N. C. 

Monday, June 16th. 

Examinations from 9 o'clock till 2. 
Deutsche Unterhaltung at 8 P. M. 

Tuesday, June 17th. 

Examinations from 9 o'clock till 2. 
Soiree Francaise at 8 o'clock P. M. 

Wednesday, June 18th. 

Examinations from 9 o'clock till 2. 
Musical and Literary Recital at 8 o'clock 
P. M. 

Thursday, June 19th, 


Exercises at 10 o'clock A. M. 
Reunion of Alumnse at 4 o'clock P. M. 
Reception at 8 o'clock P. M. 



Some time ago, while on my way in com- 
pany witli my father to visit a friend living 
at some distance from our home, we arrived, 
late in the evening of Saturday, at a little 
country village inhabited for the most part 
by Friends or Quakers. We decided to pass 
the night in this place, and to attend the 
"Q,uaker meeting" the following day. 

The morning was yet in its first freshness 
when my father and I took our way towards 
the old Meeting-house, which was in the coun- 
try at a distance of about three miles from the 
village. We drove along a broad, level road, 
shaded on each side by woods that had not 
yet exchanged the light green tints of Spring 
for the darker hues of Summer. Never had 
the "fresh fairness of the Spring" seemed 
more sweet. The Sunday quiet pervaded as 
it were the whole atmosphere, and rested on 
us like a benediction. The very bird-songs, 
all joyous as they were, added to, rather than 
disturbed, the beautiful quiet of the scene; 
for they seemed to take a tone of reverence 
as if the little warblers knew that this was 
a holy day. When we reached our destina- 
tion, we found the grounds around the Meet- 
ing-house already filled by vehicles of every 
description. Here were to be seen the carts 
of farmers of the poorer class, the shining 
new buggies of those upon whom fortune 

. — 


had looked more kindly, and the old fash- 
ioned "rockawav" which looked as if it might 
have been the family carriage of one of the i 
signers of the Declaration of Independence. 
The Meeting-house was situated on a slight- 
ly rising ground surrounded by a piue wood, | 
amid the dark foliage of which the dogwood | 
had just flung out its broad white banners. 
It was a large, roomy building, painted 
white; well built, but without any ornament, 
without even the steeple by which such edi- 
fices are usually characterized. The interior 
was as plain as the exterior ; there was no 
altar; one or two rows of raised seats at the 
end of the room afforded accommodation for 
the elders of the congregation and for travel- 
ing preachers who at the Quarterly Meetings 
and other important seasons, come from far 
and near to transact the business of the socie- 
ty and to preach to the large crowds which 
always assemble on these occasions. 

Such was the place which we now entered. 
Meeting had commenced. An impressive 
stillness reigned throughout the house. A 
soft breeze coming in through the windows 
and rustling the leaves of an open Bible, was 
the only sound to be heard in the room. This 
"silent worship" had continued for some time 
when the stillness was broken by a gentle 
voice saying "God is love." Looking up, I 
saw a woman whose whole appearance was 
in perfect harmony with her voice, standing 
before an open window as in a frame. Her 
light brown hair was put smoothly back from 
her calm, sweet face. Her dress was of some 
soft gray material, and folds of pure white 
muslin crossed her bosom. She spoke a few 
simple but earnest words on that subject 
which should rouse the deepest feeling of 
our nature, the love of God to man, then she 
took her seat and silence again fell on the 
assembly. It was not long, however, before 
another voice was heard ; that of one of the 
elders, a stern-looking old Quaker, whose 
face made me think of the Pilgrim Fathers. 
He spoke at some length, setting forth and 
explaining in clear and forcible terms the 
doctrines of his sect. He was succeeded by 
several others, some of whom merely re- 
peated a text from the Bible. 

After all had taken their seats one of the 
elders rose and gave his hand to the person 
who sat next to him. This was the signal 
for the meeting to break up, and it was fol- 
lowed by a general hand-shaking, after which 
the congregation streamed out into 
grounds, which now presented a busy scene 
of preparation for departure. My father 
and I were among the last to go ; and, as we 
drove away, I turned my head to take a long 
farewell look at the old Meeting-house among 
the pines. 


Our thanks are due the publishers, Alfred 
Williams & Co., for a copy of the School 
History of North Carolina, by John 
Wheeler Moore. The author of this work 
is a native of North Carolina, and has not 
only given us a History admirably adapted 
for use as a text-book in schools, but has 
written with such evident filial devotion to 
his subject, that as we read the sentences, 
simple yet glowing, our hearts too swell with 
pride for the good old North State. His 
graceful tribute to the excellence of St. 
Mary's among the schools of N. C. (see page 
210) is a paragraph of special interest to us, 
and we wish the work a prosperous future. 

Superintendent Scarborough has already 
approved it, by recommendation of the Leg- 
islature, for use in the Public Schools of the 

We have also received an excellent com- 
pilation for reading classes, by TCev. Dr. 
Leffingwell, the accomplished Principal of 
St. Mary's, Knoxville, 111. 

Mr. VVhitaker, No. 2 Bible House, N. Y., 
also has our thanks for A Year at Brter- 
CLIFFE, by Hope Ledyard. This charm- 
ing story of school girl life appeared last 
year as a serial in the Churchman. We are 
glad to have it in book form as a permanent 
addition to our Sunday library. 

It tells of the ups and downs, the trials 
and temptations of" school life, ending, of 
course, happily, in the triumph of innocence 
and the reward of honest endeavor. Like 
Whitaker's publications generally, the story 
is told in a churchly way, and exemplifies 
the good results of following closely the 
teachings of the Prayer Book. 

Every Sunday School and family would do 
well to put it into their children's hands. 
We would be obliged to Mr. Whitaker for 
a catalogue, with a view to replenishing our 
library shelves. 

II a tant plus 

Qu' on ne sait plus 
Pendant quel mois il a l'plus plu; 
Mais le plus stir, c'est qu'en surplus 

S'il eut moins plu 

C'a m'eut plus plu. 

On monte l'escalier. L'escalier est tres- 
dur, et Bebe, avec ses petites jambes a tontes 
les pt ines du monde a operer l'ascencion. 
Son pere le pousse par derriere, tout en lui 
re pe cant. 

Allons! Courage done! Courage! Mais, 
papa, soupire enfin B£be, hors d'haleine, je 
con? age tant que je peux. 




They break the kitchen windows, 

And overturn the chairs ; 
They cut the doors and tables, 

Much wicked work is theirs. 
Your watch they often handle, 

And sometimes let it fall; 
Which fact is quite suprising, 

When told of rodents small. 

They hide your books and papers, 

Unlock the doors and gate ; 
They revel in the pantry, 

And rattle down the plates; 
They fill your boots with pebbles, 

And to your great dismay, 
A garret full of pussies 

Can't keep the knaves away. 

But mice don't slam the shutters, 

And sail your hats for boats, 
And give away to beggars 

Your pantaloons and coats. 
At last you muse on Darwin, 

And much to your annoy, 
You find those mice developed 

Into that youngest boy. — Ex. 


Says the Golden Rule : The fact is, Boston 
and New England are already, in the major- 
rity of their population, non-churcb-going. 
The church, and hence the Word of God, is 
fast ceasing to be a power over the popular 
thought and conscience. The average man 
and woman care little for either. They 
neither attend the services of the one nor 
read the other, as a rule. In short, it amounts 
to just this : young New England is growing 
up Bibleless. That worst phase of scepticism 
is being reached — universal and good-natured 
carelessness touching religious claims and 
This scepticism, mark you 


The "scientists'' 


do with it. Its parents are here, its home is 
here ; here, too, it is nursed. Its mother is 
bigotry and stiffness and coldness in the ad- 
ministration of our churches. Its father is 
dry and stupid preaching. The church has, 
as it were, turned against herself, and by her 
own errors and weakness lost her hold on the 
popular heart and the popular imagination. 
The hopeful sign, the one bright beam that 
penetrates with its golden shaft the very 
centre of the black cloud is — that the church 
herself is getting alarmed. 

Says the Christian at Work : The world is 
busy enough. Theatre and beer garden and 
opera house and billiard hall and drinking 

saloon are all open in full blast, on every 
night of the week. We tell our young peo- 
ple to be ware of them. But what do we 
offer instead ? One prayer-meeting a week, 
or possibly two, and the church doors closed 
all the rest of the time. In some of our 
churches there are gorgeous carpets going to 
waste on church parlor floors, which ought to 
be worn out by the tramp of the feet of the 
church's young people and neighbors. There 
are bare walls in church apartments which 
should be cheerful with library shelves, and 
which might be the resort of an eargerly read- 
ing people. Let us wake up. We are not 
living up to half our privileges in taking 
hold of our people. 

have nothing to 


There is time enough to do many things, 
if the person is seriously concentrated in his 
work, and does not squander his mind and 
his time by half-work. Nothing is so bad as 
that. There are many persons who think 
they are working, when in truth they are 
only dawdling over their work with half- 
attention. There is time enough thrown 
away every day to enable any one of earnest 
mind to do more than many a man does with 
his whole day. All depends upon love of 
the work on which one is engaged, and in 
concentration of one's faculties. It is, in my 
opinion, better to utterly idle, and lie fallow 
to influences, than to muddle away hours in 
half-work. Besides, change of labor is rest, 
and to an active mind more rest than laziness. 
I have always found in music a more com- 
plete refreshment of my mind, after a hard 
day's work in my studio, than even sleep 
could give. The faculties and powers and 
interests are thrown in a different direction, 
and while one series works the other reposes. 
After an entire change of occupation one re- 
turns with fresh zest and vigor to the work 
he has left; whereas, if the thoughts are 
constantly treading the same path, they soon, 
as it were, wear a rut in the mind, out of 
which they cannot extricate themselves, and 
this begets in the end mannerism and self-re- 
petition. Still more, the various arts are but 
different exercises of correlative powers. 
They each in turn refresh and enlarge the 
imaginative and motive power, and extend 
their sphere. Each, as it were, is echoed 
and reflected into the other. The harmonies 
of color and forms and tones and words are 
closely related to each other, and but differ- 
ent expressions of merely the same thing. 
A sculptor's work will be cold if he is not 
sensitive to color and music; and a painter's 
work will be loose and vague unless his mind 
has been trained to the absoluteness of form 



and outline; neither can compose well his 
lines and forms unless he possess that inate 
sense of balance and harmonious arrangement 
and modulation which is developed by 
music. — Blackwood's Magazine. 

Verdi's Requiem was performed on Good 
Friday at the Theatre Eoyal, Cassei. 

Gilmore's Band will begin its concerts at 
Manhattan Beach, June 15th. 

Henri Vieuxtemps has returned from 
Algiers, much benefited by the change. 

The mother of Miss Elizabeth Philp, 
English ballad -singer and composer, died 
recently in London. 

Joseph Joachim, on his way to Berlin, 
played in Brussels at the Cercle Artistique 
et Litteraire. His reception was enthusi- 

The Swedish Ladies' Quartette is an- 
nounced to sing in Troy, N. Y., May 22d, 
prior to returning to Europe. 

Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle Petersilea 
will take charge of the Piano department of 
the National Musical Institute to be held at 
Jamestown, N. Y., this summer. 

"La Belle Galatea," an opera of the 
mythological comic order, music by Franz 
Von Suppe, and English libretto by Julius 
Frankel, is in preparation for performance 
in Philadelphia. 

The Princess Elizabeth, of Eoumania 
has written a German libretto for an opera, 
which has been translated into Italian and 
Roumanian and will shortly be produced at 

A London critic states that the old Italian 
school of singing is disappearing from the 
stage. The new operatic artists are adopt- 
ing the declamatory style of the French 
opera. Even Signor Gayarre sings his Ital- 
ian music in a style that is partly French. 

Lavender says that he knew all along 
that "Pinafore" at the Boston Theatre would 
be a success, for while the preliminary re- 
hearsals were going on one of the ladies 
in the cast said to him: "Oh, Mr. Whitney 
is going to do ' Captain Corcoran' splendidly.' 
He sings it just like an oratorio ! ! — Courier. 

The comic opera, "Fatinitza," which wid 
probably equal "Pinafore" in popularit 
will soon be brought out at the Bost< 
Theatre in grand style, with a cast includ- 
ing Miss Mary Beebe, Miss Adelaide Phil- 
lips, Mr. Tom Karl, Mr. H. C. Barnabee, 
and several other prominent artists of Boston. 

Miss Emma Howson, after singing for 
240 nights her original part of Josephine in 
"H. M. S. Pinafore," is now at Brighton, 
Eng., taking a month's well-earned rest, 
previous to her resuming at the Opera 

A college for young ladies is to be estab- 
lished at Oxford, England. Miss Words- 
worth, daughter of the Bishop of Lincoln 
and grand niece of the poet, is to preside 
over it as Lady Principal. 

Ha worth Church, so intimately associa- 
ted with the Brontes, is to be pulled down. 
A correspondent of the London Standard, 
who has recently visited the church, finds 
that the gallery over the altar has been 
swept away, and, although the old "three- 
decker" pulpit still stands, the quaint square 
pew where the Bronte" girls used to sit has 

Some children take naturally to a practi- 
cal view of things. A little girl in Brookline 
was saying her prayers the other evening, 
closing up with: "God bless Papa and 
Mamma, little sister, and everybody, and 
keep us from harm this night. Amen." The 
" little sister," a bright-eyed puss of five years, 
quietly remarked : " If you had said 'every- 
body' to begin with, you needn't have made 
such a long prayer." 

A very little boy had one day done wrong, 
and he was sent, after paternal correction, to 
ask in secret the forgiveness of his Heaven- 
ly Father. His offence was passion. Anx- 
ious to hear what he would say, his mother 
followed to the door of his room. In lisping 
accents she heard him ask to be made better; 
never to be angry again ; and then, with 
childlike simplicity, he added : "Lord, make 
ma's temper better too." 

"Phairest Phlora," wrote an amorous 
youth who is smitten with the phonetic craze, 
Phorever dismiss your phears and phly 
with one whose phervent phancy is phixed 
on you alone. Phriends, phamily, phather 
— phorgei them, and think only of the 
phelicjt, of the phuture! Phew phellows 
ire so piiastidious as your Pherdinand ; so 
;u not phondness, if you pheel it not. 
Phorego phrolic and answer phinally, Phlo- 
ra." "Oh! Pherdinand, you phool ! " was 
phair Phlora's curt reply. 



t mH 




74th TERM BEG A N JAN. 31, 1879. 

The situation of the school is all that can 
be desired for convenience, health and beau- 
ty. The buildings are located in an oak 
grove of twenty acres, on elevated ground, 
less than a mile from the State Capitol. 

Board and tuition per term, $105. 

Rev. Bennett Smedes, A. M., 



Manufacturer of Fine &olil Jewelry, 

Engraver &d Diamond Setter, 

Factory and Office, 66 Fulton St., New York. 

Having my own workshop and being a 
i] practical Jeweler, enables me to execute all 
! orders with the greatest facility and at the 
^very lowest price. 

Estimates for Jewelry, Prize College 
1 Badges and Medals, Class and Society Pins 
iand Rings furnished upon application. 


Presses ! 


Best and cheapest of all for amateurs. $3 
to $115. Send two 3-cent stamps for neio 
catalogue of Presses, Type, Fancy Cards, Pa- 
per, etc., to the manufacturers, 

KELSEY & CO., Meriden, Conn. 


KEEPS constantly on hand a fuel, 


Pure Drugs, 


Toilet Articles, 



Soda and Mineral Waters on Brailit. 




Book and Job Printers, 



School Pl'ilttiiift n SJnp.oi.nlt.ti. 



ST. : HV\ MiJSE. 



f • 1 1 ' 


\j u jlj 









Is now pre-eminent among Southern Board- 
ing Schools for boys in age, in area of patron- 
age, in liberality to young men of limited 
means, in ability to provide profitable employ- 
ment to proficient graduates, and it surpasses 
any similar school in the Southern States in 
numbers; 142 Cadets were in attendance dur- 
ing 1S78 from 12 States of the Union, in- 
cluding Kentucky and Wisconsin; Asia is also 
represented at present, and Vermont, Kansas 
and South America have been represented 
within two years. 

Board and tuition (after June 4th) reduced 
to $110 per session of 20 weeks. 

For Catalogue giving full particulars, ad- 
dress Maj. ROBT. BINGHAM, 




Importer @ Publisher 

Classical & Military Academy 

Near Warrenton, Fauquier Co., Va. 

40 Miles from Washington. 

Recommended for Location, Health, Moral- 
ity, Scholarship and Discipline. 

A first-class Virginia School, in which is 
taught in addition to the Classics, Elementary 
Law and Medicine. 

The Military does not interfere with 
School duties, and the officers are commis- 
sioned by the Governor of the State. 

No. of Students 117. No. Teachers 7. 

BOARD AND TUITION (Half-Session), $95.00 

Address, for catalogue, 

Maj. J±. Gr. SMITH, Supt., 

Betnel Academy P. 0., Fancier County, Va. 




Monthly Magazine of Literature, 
Science and Art. 

Mrs. CICERO W. HARRIS, I Fr1!inra 
Col. PAUL H. HAYNE, \ tanors - 

Subscription one year,. 
Single copy, 

$3 00 

Sole Agent for the famous EDITION 
PETERS, (Leipzic) AUGENER & CO., (Lon- 
don) and BREITKOPF& HAERTEL (Leipzic). 

Catalogues sent free on application. 

Besides these and my own renowned pub- 
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The labors, the trials and the glories of Commencement Week 
are over, and if ever a chosen motto was verified, we may well 
claim that ours has become a glad reality. The year's work has 
been faithfully and thoroughly done, and a crown of brilliant 
fruit, and of unstinted approval of friends and lookers on is its 
well-merited reward. 

In the quiet of these deserted halls one or two Pierians still 
linger for a brief season, and at Euterpe's bidding we gather up 
the scenes and memories of the five days just past, not only 
to present them to our readers, but that fixed in a word-picture 
we may the more vividly recall them in the years to come. 

The "Sisters Nine" are already widely scattered, never more 
to meet on the sunny slopes of this Olympus, or drink together 
the nectar of our own pure fountain. Let us waft a sweet good- 
bye to them and to other friends scarcely less beloved and re- 

Euterpe is winging her flight across the broad Atlantic in 
quest of all that modern science and research may have to 
embellish her department. "Bon voyage and a happy return" 
to her. Our " Damon and Pythias" — -the " Duchess May " in 
her stately beauty, and the cherished child of our fond love and 
pride — pass from our midst forever. As hand in hand they fade 
from our sight in the dimness of the " shadowy lane," with tear- 
ful eyes we follow them, and pray that God will have them ever 
in His holy keeping, blessing and making them blessings through 
all life's pilgrimage. The echo of Polyhymia's mournful 
chant comes back to us in the " parting of Arthur and Guenever." 
To us it seemed a token of her own farewell, but her haunts are 
close at hand, and we shall hope to meet her soon again. 

The Texan Empire claims again her sweet children of Dance 


and Song. Bat ere they return to their distant homes they, with 
the spotless Lily of Alabama, go northward in search of metro- 
politan pleasures and profit, perhaps to add lustre (as our girls 
have done before) to some "finishing" school. For three long 
years these three have graced our every assembly ; they carry 
with them our loving regrets and fondest wishes, and leave to us 
sweetest memories of gentle hearts and winsome ways. May 
they, wherever they go, wear upon their bosoms " the white flower 
of a blameless life." Of our "Petite" pianiste, what shall we 
say ? Her facile fingers never called forth from the white keys 
of her beloved instrument richer tones of harmony than on that 
last evening when she played so brilliantly grand Von Weber's 
concerto. Shall St. Mary's never hear her sweet music again ? 

Our beloved " Snail " promises to seek the shelter of the " Ark " 
once more, so we will only sing out, " au revoir" to her and wish 
her a summer bright enough to fill her sketch book with its 
sunny pictures. How glad we shall be to welcome her back next 
Fall ! She and the sunny-hearted Louise will be the nucleus 
of a new " Pierian." May its shadow never grow less. 

Upon the brows of five of our number rest laurel wreaths of 
victory, and in their hands they bear St. Mary's first diplomas ! 
From salutatory to valedictory the exercises of commencement 
day gave full proof that their honors were the just reward of 
earnest, persevering effort and manifest proficiency. Of these 
exercises we leave our pen to other less partial writers to tell 
the story. 

But in the name of St. Mary's we must express our thanks to 
the faithful and efficient teachers who have made study a 
pleasure as well as a profit to us, and whose interest and pride 
in our Alma Mater has enabled us to crown her year's work with 
such glorious fruits. 

A delightful feature of the week was the presence of so many 
Alumnse. Those of last year came in the freshness of youth, 
beauty and spirits, with sprinklings from the rolls of bygone 
years, all the way back to '43 — with husbands and babies and 
grandchildren too! Our association was organized and Mrs. 


Mary (Kinzey) Boylan was elected President by acclamation. 
She was the oldest graduate present. She was the first to send 
grandchildren to her Alma Mater, and this year has presented 
the venerable dame with three great grandchildren. Is she not 
worthy of her honorable position ? The enthusiasm of these dear 
"old girls" was unbounded, and we felt sure that St. Mary's can 
never grow old while any of her children live. 

But we have no time to indulge in pleasant reverie, and must 
give place, as we promised to do, to those who will tell us of 


The work of commencement week began, very appropri- 
ately, in the Chapel, at 11 o'clock, on the morning of the 15th 
of June, the first Sunday after Trinity. 

The sacred edifice, presenting its fairest appearance in festal 
dress of flowers and Scripture legends and ecclesiastical emblems, 
was filled with an audience gathered from many parts of the 
State besides Raleigh and its immediate neighborhood. 

Vesting in the Main Building, the Clergy followed thence, 
across the shady lawn, to their places in the sanctuary, the long 
train of scholars and teachers singing as they went, Hymn 202. 

The service was choral throughout, the Rev. J. E. C. Smedes 
saying Morning Prayer and the Litany, and the Rector celebrat- 
ing the Holy Communion. The preacher was the Rev. George 
Patterson, D. D., Rector of St. John's Church, Wilmington. 
His sermon was an impressive and seasonable discourse, deliv- 
ered with the preacher's characteristic force and earnestness, 
upon the inestimable importance of Time. Specially addressing 
his youthful hearers, and, most of all, the young ladies upon the 
eve of graduation, 

" He taught them how to consecrate their hours 
With vigorous effort and a holy aim, 
And thus to draw the sting of life and death." 

The entire service, ending with the recessional, " Brightly 
gleams our banner," will long be remembered by all who were 


The programme for German night, on Monday, was carried 
out with great success. It consisted of a scene from Schiller's 
Wallenstein, in which the principal characters were sustained 
by Misses Smedes and Tew, of the Senior Class ; and a comedy, 
by members of the Junior Classes, in German. The fluency 
and accuracy of these young ladies evidenced the careful and 
efficient instruction given in this language. Their proficiency 
not only charmed the visitors who were present, but gratified 
those who had taken such pains with them. 

The soiree francaise was perhaps even more enjoyed, as 
this language is more generally understood, and a larger audi- 
ence inspired the young performers. Misses Myers and Smedes 
presented a scene from Moliere's inimitable Bourgeois Gentil- 
homme, with spirit and effect, and the "Juniors" followed with 
a " petit drame," which was admirably done. To quote the 
words of a visitor, " It is simply astonishing — never have I seen 
or heard anything like it. No wonder St. Mary's scholars bear 
off the palm when they go to other schools." 

We know that there was no special effort at " showing off." It 
is all just the fruit of faithful work on the part of teachers and 
scholars, and as such we have a true pride and pleasure in it. 

At 12 o'clock on Wednesday, when the examination of the 
" big girls " were all over, the children of the kindergarten 
came in to show their friends what they have been doing in the 
little while they have been at school. All were delighted with 
their exhibition, their recitations and their songs. Already we 
see promise among them of such talent and scholarship as will 
win for them in the years to come St. Mary's pride, as they have 
already won her loving approbation. 

Of the musical and eiterary recital of Wednesday night, 
we leave a Professor of Music from another State to speak. 

"A programme being handed us, we glanced over it and saw, 
yes, saw a collection of authors and their works that would do 
credit to a troupe of professional artists ; and we here confess 
that, although we did not say so then, we were just a little in- 


credulous of the facts before our eyes. But listen! there is the 
beginning of No. 1 on the programme, Chopin's Scherzo in B 
Minor. It will tell its own story. Hardly six measures are over 
and we are convinced that Miss Adele L. Steiner will do herself 
credit, for any one who plays Chopin, and does it well, deserves 
credit. This beautiful composition was well rendered and was a 
fine introduction to the entertainment. 

No. 5, Von Weber's ever charming Polonaise, op. 21, was played 
with the fire and spirit required for this master production. 
Miss Josie W. Myers, the fair interpreter, received from the au- 
dience well-merited applause. 

No. 7, a Concerto in D Major, op. 40, by Mendelssohn. This 
composition, which requires the technique of a master-artist, 
really produced in us a genuine surprise. It was, as rendered, a 
most excellent true picture — so far, the gem of the evening. 
Miss Eliza H. Smedes has a fine touch, knows how to phrase and 
shade, and can surprise her hearers, after a brilliant staccato 
passage, with a beautiful legato. She is a pianist of great promise" 

No. 8, Beethoven's fourth Symphony in B Minor, was admi- 
rably rendered by Misses Smedes, Myers, DeRosset and Steiner, 
with true spirit and in excellent time. 

No. 14, Concerto by Weber, op. 79, played by Miss DeRosset, 
assisted by Miss Adele Steiner on the second piano, was played 
with brilliancy and finish. 

So much for the instrumental pieces. Misses Ihrie and Bessie 
Steiner each sang one of the charming ballads of .the great 
Schumann, and a Vocal Andantino, from Roberto il Diavolo, 
sung by Miss Alice J. Leake, received a perfect ovation. Being 
obliged to give an encore, Miss Leake sang the Scotch song, 
"The Blue Bells of Scotland." 

The recitations on this, as well as on the previous evenings, 
were wonderfully well done, and were received by the crowded 
audience with such bursts of applause as testified to their real 
enjoyment and appreciation of the merits of each selection. 

Pleasant are the memories we take with us. 

A Visitor." 


Bryant's Homer 

The whole entertainment, both musical and literary, was of the 
highest order, and reflects the greatest credit upon Mr. Sanborn, 
the able and energetic Director of Music, and the lady in charge 
of the elocution. 

Thursday, the 19th, was commencement day. At 10 o'clock 
A. M., in the great parlor, which was well filled with an 
appreciative audience, academic exercises, consisting of an origi- 
nal essay and a recitation, by each member of the graduating 
class, were rendered, in very different styles, but of an order 
of merit uniformly excellent, and according to the following 
programme : 

French Salutatory and Essay — The Cid. 

Mb* Ella G. Tew. 
Kecitation — The Burial of Hector, 

Miss Lucy P. Battle. 
German Essay — Schiller. 

Miss Eliza H. Smedes. 
Recitation— The Soul-dirge, 

Miss Katherine D. Cheshire 
Essay — Women of the Greek Drama. 

Miss Josephine W. Myers. 
Latin Ode — Laudabunt Alii, 

Miss Eliza- H. Smedes. 
Reading — Mrs. Major Ponto's Soiree, 

Miss Ella O. Tew. 
Essay — Japanese Art. 

Miss Katherine I). Cheshire. 
Recitation — The Rhyme of the Duchess May, . Browning 

Miss Josephine W, Myers. 
Essay — The Indians — and Valedictories. 
Miss Lucy P. Battle. 
These exercises being concluded with the addresses of the 
Valedictorian, the Rector, in surplice and stole, and attended by 
several of the clergy of Raleigh and the neighborhood, led the 
way from the grand salon to the Chapel, where the week's work 
fitly ended as it had appropriately begun. 





Here, after silent devotions, an address was delivered by the 
Rector, whose earnest words, uttered with the unction of sincere 
feeling, must have deeply touched all his scholars, and found 
permanent lodgement in the hearts of the white-robed band 
awaiting their diplomas. 

The announcement of honors and the presentation of diplomas 
followed, and last of all came the Church's benediction, seeming 
to set the seal of a gracious approval from above upon the culmi- 
nation of St. Mary's good work during her 37th Annual Term. 

As all work and no play is not in accordance with good taste or 
sound teaching, on Thursday night the Graduating Class gave a 
reception to their school-mates and hosts of other friends. The 
harpers played their sweetest strains ; the grounds, as on the prece- 
ding night, when the annual concert was given, was beautifully 
illumined by Chinese lanterns — the young ladies were charmingly 
attired, their manners faultless— and all present agreed that 
the evening was one of rare enjoyment and ended all too early 
for the merry party, who next day were to scatter to their homes 
far and wide apart. 



Monsieur notre Recteur et Chef : — Les paroles me man- 
quent pour exprimer toute la reconnaissance et toute 1' affection 
cpie nous ressentons envers vous. J'espeire que les exercices de 
ce jour vous feront honneur et aussi a nos instituteurs. Votre 
presence encourageante nous aidera sans doute a faire notre pos- 
sible. II appartient a ma soeur, la vale\iictorienne, de vous ex- 
primer notre gratitude; mais permettez moi de direces quelcpjes 
paroles-ci. Votre bonte" et vos soins a, l'egard de tout ce qui 
nous touche pendant que nous avons 6t6 ici, ne different qu'en 
titre du soin de nos parents. Vous avez partage - nos joies et nos 
douleurs, et vous avez fait votre possible afin que notre sejour ici 


se passe agreablement et profitablement. Oubliant vos propres 
chagrins et vos douleurs, nous les cachant soigneusement, vous 
vous etes toujours montre devant nous la figure souriante afin 
que nos jours ne soient pas moins heureux. Votre desir a tou- 
jours ete de nous niener dans le chemin du savoir et de la droiture 
et le souvenir de votre patience et de votre interet a notre egard 
sera parmi les plus agreables souvenirs que nous emporterons 
avec nous. 

Que Dieu vous accorde une longue vie rempliede bonheur! et 
nous ne doutons pas qu'elle sera plus heureuse par le souvenir 
du savoir et de la lumiere que vous avezjete dans la vie de 
tant d'autres. Je vous salue ! 

Madame la Directrice, et mes Instituteurs, Messieurs et Dames, 
je vous salue! Vous aussi, nous desirons remercier du fond de 
notre coeur de vos attentions et de vos soins assidus. Pour vous, 
peutetre, les exercices de ce jour seront plus interessants qu' a 
tout autres, car c'est par ces exercices que vous verrez en grande 
partie le fruit de vos travaux des annees qui sont passees. Quel- 
que fois les instituteurs sont considered par leur eleves comme 
des ennemis naturels ; rnais je pense que vous avez entierement 
reussi a vous faire aimes et respectes. En vous nous voyons, non 
pas, des critiques severes, mais des amis interesses en tout ce que 
nous ferons, et dont 1'interet ne cessera pas quand nous les aurons 
quittee, mais durera aussi long temps que nous le meriterons. 
Je vous salue ! 

Amis qui nous honorent ici, Je vous salue ! Votre presence 
toujours agreable, Test particulierment aujourd' hui. Nous es- 
perons toutes que les exercises de ce jour vous feront plaisir, 
car c'est votre approbation aussi bien que celle de nos parents et 
de nos instructeurs que nous desirons gagner. Nous esperons que 
ce ne sera pas la derniere fois que nous nous rencontrerons entre 
ces murs protecteurs, mais que l'avenir nous verra encore unis 
ici, avec des espe"rances aussi brillantes et des coeurs aussi pleins 
de joie. 

Sans cloute il y a ici devant moi des ecolieres du Passe\ De 
grace, ne le trouvez pas prdsomptueux que nous accueillions 


celles qui ont plus de droit ici que nous, et qui out taut ornees 
ces appartements. Que nous ne soyons indignes de succe'der 
a vos honneurs, et que vous n'ayez j amais raison de rougir que 
nous somraes aussi des Filles de Ste. Marie !" Soyez les bien- 
venns, les bien-venus ! 



Revered Sir:— It becomes my duty as representative of my 
class, to express to you our appreciation of the advantages we 
have here enjoyed, and we do most heartily thank you for your 
most earnest endeavors to train us in the principles of religion 
and virtue, while we have been pursuing the ordinary duties of 
a school. We have known you in the double capacity of teacher 
and Rector ; and while we feel deep gratitude for your valuable 
instructions, we prize still more the impartial justice and perfect 
charity with which you have watched over us day by day, pro- 
viding for us pleasures and shielding us, as far as might be, from 
every sorrow. Could our late honored and beloved Rector look 
down upon us to-day, surely his heart would rejoice to see his man- 
tle so worthily borne, his work so faithfully confirmed. These walls 
have been to some of us a second home, to all a scene of happiness 
and profit. We bear away with us the memory of an example of 
zealous piety, of consistent self-denial, of true humility. We 
leave these pleasant groves with deep regret, but it is with sorrow- 
ing hearts that we bid you, with deep respect, an affectionate 

To you, our dear Lady Principal, our loved and honored 
teachers, what can I say that will adequately testify our appre- 
ciation of your careful guidance and instruction. Yours are 
the voices that have ever cheered us, yours the hands that have 
smoothed for us, the admonitions that have spurred us on, in 
the toilsome path of learning. All our lives long we shall ex- 


perience the wisdom of your precepts, we shall daily be re- 
minded of your faithful care. We have been often wilful, often 
restive under restraint ; at times we have tried your patience 
sorely. If our thoughtless words and actions have ever wounded 
you, ever seemed to imply a want of appreciation of your never 
failing kindness and solicitude, believe me, they were never an 
index to what we really thought and felt. They were but the 
momentary outburst of girlish petulance, which we shall regret, 
when by you they have been long forgotten. If we have failed to 
become good scholars, and shall not hereafter be good, useful 
women, be assured that it is in no way your fault but our own. 
Whatever be our lot in this life, we shall ever think of you with 
loving regard. It is with feelings of the deepest regret that we 
bid you too, farewell. 

Dear school-mates, with whom we have mingled day by day 
in pleasant intercourse, while we wish you all the happiness, 
which at the beginning of a long vacation you so confidently an- 
ticipate, a strain of sadness mingles with our parting. This closing 
of school is to you but a holiday, for you expect to return in the 
Fall to old friends and old associations, while some of us are leaving 
forever. You will fill the places that have been ours ; may they be 
pleasant places to you. As pupils of St. Mary's, there will ever 
be a bond of union between us, our common love for this our 
Alma Mater. May we ever so conduct ourselves that we reflect 
no discredit upon her. 

We ask that you will hold in affectionate remembrance the 
Class of '79, in whose name I bid you a loving farewell. 

Class-mates, companions, friends, the last moment of our 
school-life draws near, and your hearts and mine are full of 
sorrow. We are about to bid farewell to scenes and faces long 
known, long loved, and we dare not realize that our happy school- 
life will be henceforth but a memory. Already its cares, and 
trials, and vexations are fading from our minds, and there re- 
main only its pleasures, which the realities of life can never 
obscure. The broad future, in which we are to act our part, 
stretches before us. We stand at the turning point whence our 


several paths diverge ; and none of us know the shadows which 
shall fall upon them. But O, may we so live, so apply the pre- 
cious lessons taught us here, that they may one day lead us safely 
to our heavenly goal ; and however we may have been sundered 
in this world, may we one day meet in happy union around the 
throne of God ! 


We feel sure that our friends who were not fortunate enough 
to be present during the exercises of Commencement Week will 
pardon us for withholding the June number of the Muse in or- 
der to insert some account of the sayings and doings of those im- 
portant days. From the services of Sunday morning to the 
"Senior Eeception" of Thursday night, there was not one dis- 
appointment or failure in carrying out our programmes. The 
examinations were pronounced by the teachers to be perfectly 
satisfactory; the evening entertainments were declared by the 
audience to be more than worthy of St. Mary's reputation in 
that respect ; the Kindergarten was lovely, and charmed every 
body, and so everything went off to the gratification of our pride. 

But we must plead the manifold claims of the week as our 
apology for so many mistakes in the printing of the Muse, as- 
suring our readers that they are all typographical and not " copy " 
errors. "Proof " had to pass unnoticed in the haste of those 
days, and Ave beg our readers to make sense where they do not 
find it. The French type is most ludicrous in its vagaries, but 
our printer is strange to that foreign tongue, and only imported 
his type for our accommodation. His interest in the Muse has 
won from him a promise to study up during the vacation and 
follow " copy " more closely next year. 

We particularly regret the omission in the table of contents 
of " The Career of Archery," by Miss Adele Steiner, and also 
the explanatory heading of that wonderful specimen of rhetoric, 
orthography and punctuation, " The Preamble." It is a copy of 



the actual proceedings of a colored musical association in the 
land of liberty and freedom, and is surely worthy of a place in 
" the archives of gravity." Numberless, but minor shortcom- 
ings are plain enough to our readers, and we can only beg that 
they will cover them all with the mantle of charity. 


ptithin tfamtzmtt 



Vol. II. RALEIGH, N. C, JUNE. 1879. No. 1. 



A Legend ok C6lj3@im—Bret Harte, (from Belgraiia,) 1 

Letter erom (Jaleiote g 

Correspondence—^. W. Young 12 

The Footprints ey the River Side.— Nova Cannon 14 

FashIon— 7?. R. Burr ; 17 

The Ei^ves— Translated from the German of Ludwiq Tieck bxi 

Mss Blanche E. Griffin . ~ 2 1 

Pre a m bee 27 

Mon Anneatt Invisible — Gabrielle DeG. DeRosset 28 

Editorial, &£ • 31 


Per School Year, 50 Cents _ 

Sin *' le Xo -' 10 Cents. 


EAEEIGH, n. c. , 

BT Classical & Military Academy 
■ Near Warronton, Fauquier Co., "Va. 

40 Miles from Washington, 

Recommended tor Location, Health, Moral- 
ity, Scholarship and Discipline. 

A first-class Virginia School, in which is 
taught in addition to the Classics, Elementary 
Law and Medicine, 

The Military does not interfere with 
School duties, and the officers are commis- 
sioned by the Governor of the State. 

No. of Students 117. No. Teachers 7. 

BOARD AND TUITION {Half-Session), $95.00 

Address, for catalogue, 

Ma.j. A. GJ-. SMITH, Supt., 

Bethel Academy P, 0„ Fauguier County, va. 











Is now pre-eminent among Southern Board- 
ing Schools for boys in age, in area of patron- 
age, in liberality to young men of limited 
means, in ability to provide profitable employ- 
ment to proficient, graduates, and it surpasses 
any similar school in the Southern States in 
■numbers ; 142 Cadets were in attendance dur- 
ing 1878 from 12 States of the Union, in- 
cluding Kentucky and Wisconsin ; Asia is also 
represented at present, and Vermont, Kansas 
and South America have been represented 
within two years. 

Board and tuition (after June 4th) reduced 
to $110 per session of 20 weeks. 

For Catalogue giving full particulars, ad- 
dress Ma j. BOBT. BINGHAM, 



Importer @ Publis 

• Sole Agent for the famous f L 
PETERS, (Leipzic) AUGENER & CO., \ 

Catalogues sent free on application 
Besides these and mv own renowned 
locations, I have a COMPLETE STOCK r '<j> 
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weekly importations all the new worl< 
celebrated Authors. 

Music sent for selection to Teachers 
Seminaries on the most liberal terms. 





Pure Drays, 


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Soda and Mineral Waters on Drauj 


Manufacturer of Fie Gold Jeil 

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Estimates for Jewelry, Prize Col 
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and Rings furnished upon application. 

St. Mary's Muse. 

Vol. II. RALEIGH, N. C, JUNE, 1879. No. 1. 



Above the bones 

St. Ursula owns, 

And those of the virgins she chaperones ; 

Above the boats, 

And the bridge that floats, 

And the Rhine and the steamer's smoky throats; 

Above the chimneys and quaint tiled roofs, 

Above the clatter of wheels and hoofs ; 

Above Newmarket's open space, 

Above that consecrated place 

Where the genuine bones of the Magi seen are, 

And the dozen shops of the real Farina. 

Higher than even old Hohestrasse, 

Whose houses threaten the timid passer ; 

Above them all, 

Through scaffolds tall 

And spires like delicate limbs in splinters, 

The great Cologne's 

Cathedral stones 

Climb through the storms of eight hundred winters. 
Unfinished there, 

In high mid air 


The towers halt like a broken prayer ; 
Through years belated, 
The hopes of its architect quite frustrated. 
Its very youth 
They say, forsooth, 
With a quite improper purpose mated ; 
And every stone 
With a curse of its own 
Instead of that sermon Shakespeare stated, 
Since the day its choir, 
Which all admire, 
By Cologne's Archbishop was consecrated. 

Ah ! that was a day, 

One well might say, 
To be marked with the largest, whitest stone 
To be found in the towers of all Cologne ! 

Along the Rhine, 

From old Rheinstein, 
The people flowed like their own good wine. 

From Rudesheirn, 

And (xeisenheim, 
And every spot that is known to rhyme ; 
From the famed Cat's Castle of St. Goarshausen, 
To the pictured roofs of Assmannshausen ; 

And down the track, 

From quaint Schwalbach 
To the clustering tiles of Bacharach ; 

From Bingen, hence 

To old Coblentz : 
From every castellated crag, 
Where the robber chieftains kept their ' swag,' 
The folk flowed in, and Ober-cassel 
Shone with the pomp of knight and vassal ; 
And pouring in from near and far, 


As the Rhine to its bosom draws the Ahr, 
Or takes the arm of the sober Mosel, 
So in Cologne, knight, squire, and losel, 
Choked up the city's gates with men 
From old St. Stephen to Zint Marjen. 

What had they come so see ? Ah me ! 
I fear no glitter of pageantry, 

Nor sacred zeal 

For Church's weal, 
Nor faith in the virgins' bones to heal ; 

Nor childlike trust in frank confession 
Drew these, who, dyed in deep transgression, 

Still in each nest 

Of every crest 
Kept stolen goods in their possession ; 

But only their gout 

For something new, 

More rare than the ' roast' of a wandering Jew ; 

1 Or — to be exact, 

To see — in fact — 

A Christian soul, in the very act 

Of being damned, secundum artem, 

By the devil before a soul could part 'em. 

For a rumor had flown, 
Throughout Cologne, 
That the Church, in fact, was the devil's own; 
That its architect, 
(Being long 'suspect,') 
Had confessed to the bishop that he had wreckt 
Not only his own soul, but had lost 
The very first Christian soul that crossed 
The sacred threshold ; and all, in fine, 
For that very beautiful design 
Of the wonderful choir 
They were pleased to admire. 


And really, he must be allowed to say — 
To speak in a purely business way — 
That, taking the ruling market prices 
Of souls and churches, in such a crisis 
It would be shown — 
And his Grace must own- 
It was really a bargain for Cologne ! 

Such was the tale 

That turned cheeks pale 
With the thought that the enemy might prevail, 

And the church doors snap 

With a thunder-clap 
Of a Christian soul in that devil's trap. 

But a wiser few, 

Who thought that they knew 
Cologne's Archbishop, replied, ' Pooh, pooh ! 

Just watch him and wait, 

And as sure as fate 
You'll find that the Bishop will give "checkmate."' 

Bom ! from the tower ! 

It is the hour ! 
The host pours in its pomp and power 

Of banners and pyx, 

And high crucifix, 
And crosiers and other processional sticks, 

And no end of Marys 

In quaint reliquaries, 
To gladden the souls of all true antiquaries ; 

And an Osculum Pacis — 

(A myth to the masses 
Who trusted their bones more to mail and cuirasses), 

All borne by the throng 

Who are marching along 
To the square of the Dom with processional song, 


With the flaring of dips, 
And bending of hips, 

And the chanting of hundred perfunctory lips; 
And some good little boys 
Who had come up from Neuss 

And the Quirinuskirche to show off their voice; 
All march to the square 
Of the great Dom, and there 

File right and left, leaving alone and quite bare 
A covered sedan, 
Containing — so ran 

The rumour — the victim to take off" the ban. 

They have left it alone, 

They have sprinkled each stone 

Of the porch with a sanctified Eau de Cologne, 
Guaranteed in this case 
To disguise every trace 

Of a sulphurous presence in that sacred place. 
Two Carmelites stand 
On the right and left hand 

Of the covered sedan chair, to wait the command 
Of the prelate to throw 
Up the cover and show 

The form of the victim in terror below. 

There's a pause and a prayer, 
Then the signal, and there — 

Is a woman! — by all that is good and is fair ! 

A woman ! and there 
She stands in the glare 

Of the pitiless sun and their pitying stare. 
A woman still young, 
With garments that clung 

To a figure though wasted with passion, and wrung 
With remorse and despair, 
Yet still passing fair, 


With jewels and gold in her dark shining hair, 
And cheeks that are faint 
'Neath her dyes and her paint — 

A woman most surely — but hardly a saint! 

She moves. She has gone 

From their pity and scorn ; 

She has mounted alone 

The first step of stone, 
And the high swinging doors she wide open has thrown, 

Then pauses and turns 

As the altar blaze burns 
On her cheeks, and with one sudden gesture she spurns 

Archbishop and Prior, 

Knight, ladye, and friar, 
And her voice rings out high from the vault of the choir, 

' Oh, men of Cologne ! 

What I was ye have known, 
What I am, as I stand here, One knoweth alone. 

If it be but His will 

I shall pass from Him still 
Lost, curst, and degraded, I reckon no ill 

If still by that sign 

Of His anger divine 
One soul shall be saved He hath blessed more than mine ! 

Oh, men of Cologne ! 

Stand forth if ye own 
A faith like to this, or more fit to atone, 

And take ye my place, 

And God give you grace 
To stand and confront Him, like me, face to face !' 

She paused. Yet aloof 
They all stand. No reproof 
Breaks the silence that fills the celestial roof. 


One instant — no more — - 

She halts at the door, 
Then enters !...... A flood from the roof to the floor 

Fills the church rosy red. 

She is gone ! 

But instead, 
Who is this leaning forward with glorified head 

And hands stretched to save ? 

Sure this is no slave 
Of the Powers of Darkness, with aspect so brave ! 

They press to the door, 
But too late ! All is o'er ; 

Nought remains but a woman's form prone on the floor. 
But they still see a trace 
Of that glow in her face, 

That they saw in the light of the altar's high blaze. 
On the image that stands 
With the Babe in its hands, 

Enshrined in the churches of all Christian lands. 

A Te Deum sung, 

A censer high swung, 
With praise, benediction, and incense wide-flung, 

Proclaim that the curse 

Is removed — and no worse 
Is the Dom for the trial — in fact, the reverse. 

For instead of their losing 

A soul in abusing 
The Evil One's faith, they gained one of his choosing. 

Thus the legend is told, 

You will find in the old 
Vaulted aisles of the Dom — stiff in marble or cold, 

In iron and brass, 

In gown and cuirass, 
The knights, pr'ests and bishops who came to that Mass. 


And high o'er the rest, 
With her Babe at her breast, 

The image of Mary Madonna — the blest. 

But you look round in vain, 
On each high pictured pane, 

For the woman most worthy to walk in her train. 

Yet, standing to-day 
O'er the dust and the clay, 

Midst the ghost of a life that has long passed away, 
With the slow-sinking sun 
Looking softly upon 

That stained-glass procession, I scarce miss the one 
That it does not reveal, 
For I know and I feel 

That these are but shadows — the woman was real ! 


New York, June, 1879. 

Dear Sister Euterpe : It is with great pleasure that I re- 
turn thanks for your cordial reception of my greeting, sent you 
by the hand of that saucy fellow, Mercury, on his last rounds. 
I willingly accede to your request that I write again, and I hope 
this will be ready for our courier on his next circuit. Indeed, 
who could resist the charming appeal of that clever typograph- 
ical perversion — Euterpe's entracing spell? Not I, at least, and 
so you see I am already fairly in the traces as your correspondent 
from the Metropolis. 

These poor mortals — how I pity them— can ill endure the heat ; 
and when Apollo rides his burning chariot higher over their 
heads — taking his course through the heavens farther and far- 
ther to the North each day — they flee for shelter from his glory 


to the coolest retreat earth affords them, there to remain until 
he, taking pit} 7 upon their weakness, retraces his way to the other 
hemisphere. The Arts are, during this period, thrown aside ; 
all their mental energies being concentrated upon the one great 
problem — how to keep cool ! Hence the concert season is over, 
and I have therefore nothing very new to tell you of. But I did 
snatch the opportunity of witnessing the final event of the sea- 
son, that I might not be without something of interest to relate 
to you, dear Euterpe. 

On Wednesday, the 28th of May, was celebrated the Centen- 
nial Birthday of the charming Lyric Poet of Hibernia, Thomas 
Moore. He it was who wisely tested the strength of his poetic 
pinions in translating into his own language the Odes of our 
ancient Greek disciple, Anacreon, ere he launched out into the 
free flight of his own untrammeled genius. The hall of the 
Academy of Music was the scene of the .anniversary perform- 
ance, and when the curtain rose at eight in the evening, the eyes 
of all in the crowded house beheld a chorus of four hundred 
voices, who were to sing the Irish Melodies, as the chief feature 
of the evening. This large body of singers was ranged in as- 
cending tiers, filling almost the entire perspective of the pros- 
cenium. And above and back of all, upon a draped pedestal, 
stood a magnificent bust of colossal size, fashioned with consum- 
mate skill in the likeness of Tom Moore. 

Of this statue I have to tell you a secret which belongs only 
to our immortal Sisterhood, in order to explain its presence as 
the centre of attraction in the hall of the assembly. You know 
that of yore I was wont to hunt the studios of Phidias and Praxi- 
teles, the ancient poets of form and figure, to watch them as they 
evolved from the rude marble or bronze the immortal concep- 
tions of their mortal minds. And in my rovings among the 
abodes of those who court the Arts — seeking for Genius hidden 
from the envy and sordidness of the petted and arrogant Medi- 
ocrity in obscure and poverty-stricken retreats — I happened not 
long since to discover one on whom Apollo had bestowed a true 
poetic soul, gazing through eyes dimmed with tears at the work 



on which he was putting the finishing touches, and which I saw 
at once to be a perfect image of "the Bard of Erin." The des- 
titute sculptor wept because he knew the fire of true genius 
burned within him, and yet it seemed that the cruel Fates had 
doomed him to die unnoticed and unknown. Of course, dear 
Sister, this was more than heart could endure, and so I sped to 
one who I knew could bring the artist's creation to the light ; and 
touching him upon the forehead, I inspired him to seek the 
crazy garret where this modern Praxiteles wrought. Struck 
with the excellence of the work and moved to pity by the dis- 
tress of the workman, he cared for the wants of the sculptor and 
had the bust conveyed to the hall, where on the evening of the 
anniversary it occupied the conspicuous position I have already 

The entertainment was well calculated to interest the minds of 
the million. The performances of the evening were as follows : 
After an introductory address by Chief Justice C. P. Daly, the 
Chorus, accompanied by an Orchestra of over fifty pieces, and 
all under the baton of the popular conductor, Mr. P. S. Gilmore, 
sang the Irish patriotic air, " Let Erin Remember the Days of 
Old ;" after which, the well-known tenor, Mr. Geo. Simpson, 
sang the stirring martial ballad, " The Minstrel Boy." Then, 
"Flow on Thou Shining River" was rendered as a duet by two 
sweet-voiced sisters, and thereafter a poem written for the occa- 
sion was recited. Next, "Oft in the Stilly Night" was sung as 
solo and chorus, Mrs. Florence Rice-Knox being the soloist. She 
is a woman to whom Nature has given a voice proportioned to 
her magnificently developed person, large, and full, and rich. 
But alas, Jove has not enlightened that queenly form with the 
noble soul it would seem worthy to enshrine ; the mind and 
heart lack strength and beauty, and she who possesses so grand a 
voice knows not how to use it, because the character is weak and 
ignoble! Although her singing seemed almost to touch the heart 
and move the feelings, yet in every strain one felt that something 
was lacking— a vague disappointment followed each momentary 
anticipation of depth and pathos. But the mere power of her 


voice was shown by its being heard above the large chorus and 
orchestra, Avhen they accompanied her in the refrain. 

The numbers that followed "Oft in the Stilly Night" were: 
"The Harp that Once through Tara's Halls," solo; a long ad- 
dress on the life and character of Moore ; " The Last Rose of 
Summer," solo ; " Believe Me, If All those Endearing Young 
Charms," chorus — during which so noted a leader as Mr. Gil- 
more, the conductor of the Boston Jubilee, actually allowed the 
Chorus to sing the closing phrase in one key and the Orchestra 
to play it in the interrupted resolutions of that chord on the 
half-step, producing the excruciating discord of two pairs of ad- 
jacent semi-tones, supported by a bare octave ! Enough to blast 
a Conductor's reputation for life ! I blush to tell it, but it is 
even so. 

This one harsh feature was forgotten in the pleasure of the 
next number ; for, after the recital of an original poem by John 
Savage, LL. D., a wreath of flowers was handed to him, with 
the request that he would crown the Laureate of the evening. 
Amidst loud cheering and applause, he made his way through 
the Chorus, and with the blooming chaplet encircled the head of 
the bust of Moore. The entertainment then closed, after the 
recitation of one of the Bard's poems in the Irish tongue, by the 
singing of the time-honored chorus, " Sound the Loud Timbrel," 
and our National Anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner." The 
people thoroughly enjoyed the performance, if we may judge 
from the fact that every musical number of the programme was 

During the evening I noticed a young lad going about with a 
shallow basket among the audience, seeking contributions for the 
aid of my friend, the destitute sculptor. He had received a 
beautiful bouquet for the artist; but there was little in the basket. 
Such is the bounty of mankind to genius in want ! 

Hoping that my long epistle has not worried your patience, I 
close, wafting you many sisterly greetings. If it were not for 
the impertinence of that rogue, Mercury, I should feel tempted 
to send by him a more touching pledge of my love ! 

Your Sister, Calliope. 



Boston, June 7th, 1879. 

Editor Muse : — Here in the North we are now occupied with 
the same topics as our Southern friends — planning and anticipa- 
ting much pleasure for the long summer days of July, August 
and September. Then our schools will again be in session. But 
meanwhile there will be plenty of camping, boating, hunting, 
fishing — but there is no end to the list of possible pleasures, 
therefore I shall put a period after neither one of them. 

For myself, among other things, I expect to spend a few weeks 
in company with Mr. Hardy " under the canvass," in a beautiful 
little town on the southern shore of Cape Ann — Manchester- 
by-the-Sea — where there is a charming confusion of high cliffs, 
headlands and sandy beaches, reaching along the coast for miles. 
Here, too, is one of those wonders of the world — a " singing beach." 
When one walks over the dry, shifting sands, the constant striking 
of the foot produces a peculiar high, metallic, "singing" sound, as 
if the sand was composed of tin)' molecules of glass. These 
" musical sands " are a great curiosity. A little back from the beach 
is a large hotel — the "Masconomo House" (notice the soft Indian 
name), owned by Mr. J. B. Booth, the actor. The town is getting 
to be quite a popular summer resort; it has many beautiful sum- 
mer residences, owned by wealthy people from Boston, Cam- 
bridge, New York, Philadelphia, New Orleans and elsewhere. 
Dr. Bartol, of Boston, Augustus Hemenway, Russell Sturgis, L. 
N. Tappan, Joseph Sawyer, Rev. E. P. Tenney (novelist), James 
T. Fields, Isaac West, of New Orleans, and (until' his recent 
death) R. H. Dana, all spend most of their summers here. 
William Black, the English novelist, once visited Mr. Fields at 
his " Cambrel Cottage," and acknowledged his indebtedness in 
"Green Pastures and Piccadilly." Manchester is also the resort 
of a bevy of players — Southern, the Booths, Chanfraus and oth- 
ers. Near by, off the coast, is the famous reef of " Norman's 


Woe," on which the Hesperus was wrecked many years ago, 
which sad event Longfellow has immortalized in one of the 
simplest, saddest, sweetest poems ever written. 

Of " Pinafore," — well, I shall not say much about it. For 
seven weeks the Boston Theatre gave what was called the 
" best presentation in the world." Now the Globe Theatre pro- 
poses (though it has played it before), to " go it one better," and 
advertises to begin, on Monday, June 9, a performance abso- 
lutely perfect in acting; they concede that the singing at "the 
Boston " cannot be surpassed. The minor theatres have been 
presenting it about all the past winter and spring, one after an- 
other. It is an epidemic. Old actors complain that it is ruin- 
ing the popular taste for the legitimate drama. The Museum 
has a juvenile Pinafore troupe — ages ranging from four to fif- 
teen years. Strong efforts were made by the Puritanical School 
Committee of Boston to break up the affair, but the Police Com- 
missioners refused to revoke the license, " and it's greatly to 
their credit !" And so the children are triumphant ; they enjoy 
it ever so much, and are earning a handsome sum weekly. 

" Fatinitza," a drama of the last Turko-Russian war, is now 
on the boards at the Boston Theatre, where " Pinafore" has just 
closed a seven-weeks voyage. The new Park Theatre is playing 
" The Banker's Daughter." 

Political matters are already agitating our commonwealth. 
Gen. Butler will probably be the regular Democratic nominee 
(also Greenback) for Governor. Look out for a close contest in 
" the Old Bay State." 

Pardon this touch upon politics ; I was betrayed into it by 
reading Prof. Hardy's comments on the "exodus" in his last 
letter to me. The South is doing bravely, and growing better 
and wiser every day. Even the Radicals know that ; hence their 
tears. F. W. Younu. 




Walking in idle mood by the river bank, I paused to note the 
footprints in the soft and plastic soil, and as I gazed, T read in 
them characters and histories. Here was the tiny impress of a 
little child, in some places clear and distinct, in others faint and 
scarcely discernible. In imagination I saw a fair and rosy- 
cheeked little one, with her flossy curls all blown about her 
lovely face by the sweet breath of Spring, as she sprang hither 
and thither in idle, wanton play — now chasing a golden-winged 
butterfly — now pausing to admire the beautiful ocean spread 
out before her; and I read each impress of the heart in the 
varied footprints. Here, under a spreading maple, two per- 
sons had walked side by side with slow and loitering pace ; this 
bears the firm impress of a man strong in purpose and love, 
treading down all impediments, all obstructions, to keep ever by 
the side of the slight footprint of woman. How different were 
the two! Hers, evidently needing or asking for assistance from 
the strong form beside her; his, proud of the task of giving that, 
perhaps unasked, but certainly gladly received, support ! Here they 
passed along, and their forms rose clearly before my mind's eye 
and I reared a bright castle in the air, of which they two, and 
they alone, were the occupants. I saw his eye gaze on her with 
the tenderest affection, and as he drew her closer to him, I heard 
his voice of wildering sweetness softly whisper, "My darling!" 
I saw her face turned toward him, speaking more plainly than 
her faltering tongue (overcome by the intensity of her feeling) 
could utter them, the words, "My heart's Love, my King." 

Oh, what a heavenby thing is this same " Love !" Its influence 
is universal, yet indescribable! Some persons contend that love, 
earnest, whole-sonled love, enforces a return; but this is not 


always the case. Men may, nay, often do, love truly and earn- 
estly one whose pulses do not quicken one beat, whose heart does 
not vary in its pulsations while they plead in vain but for a 
hope ; and again, that same heart, now so calm, will start at the 
first sound of a voice, its beatings will be so rapid that the breath 
is impeded, the citadel of life yields up its keys, throws open its 
gates, and the conqueror triumphantly takes entire and complete 
possession ! 

But I did not intend to write a dissertation on Love, but on 
Footprints. In the wilds of the Far West, the passer-by sees 
stamped in the solid rock the impress of a giant foot, clear and 
distinct to-day, after the lapse of ages, as when first imprinted in 
the yielding soil! And thus do some characters make their im- 
press on the hearts and lives of those around them. Years may 
roll onward; the seasons may come and go, and age, with its 
chilly breath and stealthy pace, make the bright eye grow dim 
and the firm, elastic step falter, still the footprint of the mighty 
giant is seen ; the soft and yielding character becomes hardened 
and warped by contact with the world, but the mighty footprint, 
stamped indelibly upon it, hardens into adamant and remains ! 

After the pause beneath the maple, the footprints passed on- 
ward, and I traced them back and forth — marking with pleased 
emotion that they were ever side by side ; for it seemed to me 
that I had so plainly read the feelings and thoughts of those who 
had loitered there before me, that the wish rose to my heart and 
almost to my lips, that they might ever thus through life pass 
onward side by side, loving and being loved, till time itself shall 
have ceased to be ! 


A few days elapsed and again I strayed beneath the maples on 
the river bank. But alas ! alas ! where were the footprints on 
which I had gazed so short a time since ? Those of the child 
had disappeared — washed out by the rain, effaced by the breeze, 
and I sighed as I thought but a few short years, and all recol- 
lection of that little one, with her rosy cheeks and flossy curls, 


would have passed away, even as her footprints had faded. But, 
no ! one heart retains the memory even as here between this 
trailing vine I trace one tiny footprint. The mother still holds 
close locked in her bosom the form of the child which passed 
away, it may be years ago ; but to her it is still "the little one " — 
her child ! 

Sadly I turn to look for the traces, left beneath the maples, by 
those whom imagination had pictured to me as lovers. I started 
back as I beheld them ! warped out of all shape and hardened 
by the sun, they were now but blots and scars on the bosom of 
the earth! Again imagination took the helm, and under her 
guidance the ship of mind flew hither and thither, driving wildly 
along in the sea of thought. I pictured those same lovers, now 
either scattered by the fire of passion or parted by some stern 
decree of cruel fate ! Had the breath of slander, like the simoon 
of the desert, withered the blossoms of love ? or had stern duty 
stepped between them and, pointing to different paths, said, 
" Henceforth ye must walk apart ?" I know not, but I saw that 
all beauty had faded from their pathway. There were the foot- 
prints still side by side, but instead of pleasure, the contempla- 
tion of them now gave me intense pain, and, foolish as it may 
seem, I burst into tears as I thought of his face turned from her 
who was no longer the "loadstar of existence," and heard the 
wail of anguish with which her heart still acknowledged him as 
" King," even tho' that kingdom was now a desert. I turned 
away heart-sick ! I had sought out this " sly green nook," hoping 
again to pass a pleasant half hour beneath the cool shadow of 
those glorious trees, for those footprints had seized hold on my 
imagination and had haunted me as with a living presence. 
Through the days which had intervened I had woven many a web 
of fancy, in which the golden threads of Hope and Love gleamed 
brightly amidst the gorgeous flowers scattered by the hand of 
Anticipation! But now, the golden thread had cankered and 
rusted, eating into the flowers whose bright tints had faded, so 
that the whole fabric was more than useless. 

"Somehow the place seemed cursed,"' and I turned away, in- 
wardly resolving never again to wander there. 



E. R. BURR. 

" Loveliness 
Needs not the aid of foreign ornament but is, 
When unadorn'd, adorn'd the most." 

We profess to be a Christian people, and send messages of free 
grace to heathen lands and yet, there is an idol in our midst, who 
is worshiped with a zeal worthy of a Hindoo priest. No heathen 
god or goddess has ever had more zealous devotees, or a more 
mortifying ritual to perform, or more cruel penances, than this 
dame of fame, renowned Fashion. She has laws, and severe ones 
too, but unlike the laws of the Medes and Persians, they are con- 
stantly changing. They are not often founded upon reason, for 
sometimes they violate even common decency, and often sacrifice 
comfort to her whimsical decrees. She imposes unexpected bur- 
dens upon her followers, which are oftentimes detrimental to 
health, time and wealth — but what cares this fickle goddess? 
Like the moon, she changes every quarter in spite of sunshine, 
wind or storm, and carries along in her train one vast tidal 
wave of nick-nacks, flounces and flummery, long sleeves and short 
sleeves, or no sleeves at all. One month, she appears in frills 
and flounces; the next, lo! these are perished, and the plainest 
of skirts has usurped their place, while a wing which some bird 
has once worn, stands erect, where graceful tendrils twined, a few 
weeks before. Fashion is a tyrant, she speaks the word only, and 
all obey her commands. If she orders a long skirt, a short skirt 
— a hoop, or balloon ; a broad brim ; a jockey, or " sky-scraper" 
for head-gear-crinoline or no crinoline — it is done — her will, im- 
mutable, is obeyed. Perhaps she fancies wool for August, and 
thin fabrics for December — it matters not — the mandate goes 
forth ; the contagion spreads, while disease creeps silently behind, 
and Death exulting, lingers not far in the background. Not only 
is this adulation for the goddess felt by the female sex, the men 


also, follow closely in her train, and many tricks she plays upon 
them. Now the loose flowing garments, with collar a la Byron 
— then presto ; pants, patent-leather tips, and neck-tie, all rival 
each other in tightness, while the poor exquiste, gold cane in 
hand, and beaver dexterously balanced on one side of the head, 
showing the middle part in the hair, carries himself painfully, 
with a swagger not unlike the famous " bend " of a few years 
ago. Thus it is, she makes fools of us all — even creation's noble 
lords succumb to the wily arts of this inconsistent goddess. In 
the days of good Queen Bess, Fashion ran riot with the court 
ladies. At one time each one wore, suspended from the waist by 
a small chain, what was called a " Scratch back." This was a 
small cylinder, about a half yard in length, made of wood, bone 
or ivory, with a bird's claw carved at one end, or a human hand 
with the fingers in position for a scratch These were very useful 
instruments, inasmuch, if any biting insect assailed the wearer, all 
she had to do was to insert her ivory claw between the folds of 
the wide frill, and satisfaction was forthcoming. However 
capacious she may be, the jade is not without some feelings of 
sympathy for mortals. Richard Third's hump was a source of 
mortification to him all his life. Fashion, whose ready wit is 
ever quick to cover the defects, and hide the defoi-mities of human- 
kind, came to the rescue, and placed a hump upon the backs of 
court and peasantry until all Elngland was humped and crooked. 
And so it has been, and will be, from the dim past to the uncer- 
tain future ; this ignis fatuus will lead us whither she will ; few can 
stem the torrent of ridicule poured upon those who refuse to 
follow the mysterious and intricate movements of Fashion ! 



The party of school-girls clustered round the bright wood fire. 
The ponderous tome was handed down ; we listened breathless 
for the first magic words. 

"Oh Goddess, sing the wrath of Peleus' son." The liquid 
music of the verse swelled into ever richer, grander strains. 
From the depths of old ocean to the peaks of old olympus did 
we follow, lured by he siren song, Calliope's flying feet. 

Anon, we stood upon the battle field, amid the clash of weapons, 
and with beating hearts, we saw the warriors fall. Each hero 
had an ardent and admiring heart devoted to his cause, and 
mine was won by Tencer, who protected by his brother's 
mighty shield, shot his arrows into the middle of the fray — 
shot them with all the strength of a hero's heart, if not a hero's 
arm. My fancy wove many a fair tale of that slender bow. 
Mayhap, I thought Luna's own bright self hung in the clear air 
as its model; and when her silver crescent had waxed to a shin- 
ing disc, the youthful warrior fastened on his quiver and marched 
to battle at his brother's side. Alas! the Encyclopedia, dissipa- 
tion of myths, came to the rescue of my fancies. My pretty 
dream dissolved amid a shower of tears, shed both for my hero 
and my theory. Both vanished before the powerful light of 
knowledge. No pretty Greek first fashioned, with Pallas' aid, 
the archer's weapons. The same mystic hands that reared the 
pyramids, drew also the cross-bow. 

Before Greece was a nation, mighty Eastern empires rose and 
fell by its strength. Greece herself bowed and yielded up her 
liberty under showers of stinging arrows. Bome, the proud 
mistress of the world, surrendered her pleasant fields and 
sunny vineyards to hordes armed with the bow. When the ven- 
turesome spirit of the Northmen led them south, it was the arrow 
that gained them a home under the balmy skies of bonny France. 


Still restless, they caught sight of Albion's white cliffs, and eager 
to possess them, crossed the narrow channel, and landed in the 
country which was to be the chosen home of Archery. In con- 
quering the country the Normans had taught its inhabitants to 
conquer. It was the Saxon who, in the Middle Ages, wielded 
the bow witli the most consummate skill in war ; it was he who 
bore off the prize in peaceful contests of dexterity and strength. 

It was not always in open warfare nor in public games that the 
dart was surest. Under Sherwood forest dwelt Robin Hood and 
his band. Here fell the deer, staining the unerring arrow with 
his blood, ere startled by the aj^proach of the silent hunter. 
When the bow was drawn by the scarce steady hand of the strip- 
ling, the ominous whiz of the weapon as it sped by, warned the 
trembling animal that only far from this treacherous spot could 
safety be found. As the clear horn rang through the forest, 
echoed back by every hillock in softened sweetness, the song 
of the feathered inhabitants was silenced ; the squirrel stopped 
in his gambols, and the timid hare crouched in sudden fear ; but 
a crowd of merry men in Lincoln green sprang up at its call, 
eager to follow where their bold chief might lead. 

Long years after, when Robin and his men had been laid be- 
neath the sward which was the scene of their restless, active 
lives — court ladies flitted between the forest trees, and tripped 
over the mossy turf. But no pretty songster yielded his heart's 
blood to the gold-tipped arrows which sprung from those white 
hands. No deer, tossing his handsome antlers, bounded to denser 
shades, for fear of those feeble darts. The only arrows shot with 
effect, methinks, among that courtly train were those of Venus' 
run-away, who 

" doth bear a golden bow, 

And a quiver hanging low, 
Full of arrows, that out-brave 
Diana's shafts " 

Cross the ocean, and turn to the vast forests of America. No 
silver laughter floats upon the air. The stillness is broken only 
by fierce cries of savages and the rush of their weapons. Only 


yesterday one gallant officer fell by the poisoned arrow of the 

But the powerful tribes that once held America in sway have 
melted to a few handfuls. The whiz of their deadly weapons 
comes to us as a far off echo, soon lost in the turmoil of our busy 
life. The arrow has ceased to be a weapon of war ; all efforts to 
revive its use have; failed it has become the sport of children 
and a pastime for the idle. 



" Where is our little Marie ?" the father asked. 

" She is playing out there on the grass, with our neighbor's 
son," answered the mother. 

" I hope they will not go astray," the father said apprehen- 
sively ; "they are thoughtless." 

The mother looked for the little ones, and brought them their 
afternoon luncheon. " It's hot," said the lad, and the little girl 
eagerly held out her hand for the red cherries. " Be cautious, 
children," said the mother, " do not run too far from the house 
or into the forest ; father and I are going out to the field." Young 
Andres answered : " O, don't be uneasy, for we are afraid of the 
forest; we will sit here by the house, where there are people 
near us." 

The mother returned to the house, and soon came out again 
with her husband. They locked up their dwelling and turned 
towards the fields in order to look after the laborers in the 
meadow and, at the same time, see the crop of hay. Their house 
was situated upon a little green knoll, surrounded by a neat rail 
fence, which also enclosed their orchard and flower garden ; the 


village sloped down somewhat lower, and on the other side rose 
the Count's castle. Martin had rented this large estate from the 
Count and contentedly lived here with his wife and only child, 
for he laid by something yearly, and had the prospect, through 
industry, of becoming a wealthy man, for the soil was rich and 
the Count did not oppress him. 

As he went with his wife towards the fields, he looked joyously 
around him and said : " Brigitta, how very different this region 
is from that in which we formerly dwelt. Here, it j,s so fresh ; 
the whole village is thickly planted with fine fruit trees ; all the 
houses are neat and their inhabitants well-to-do ; indeed, it seems 
to me that the forests here are more beautiful and the sky bluer; 
and as far as the eye can reach, beautiful Nature spreads pleasure 
and delight." 

"Only on the other side of the river," said Brigitta, "you 
seem to be in another world, all is so barren and dreary. Every 
traveller asserts that our village is the fairest far and wide, 
through which he has passed." 

" All but the fir grove on the low grounds," her husband an- 
swered ; " look back there how dark and dismal that isolated 
spot lies amid these cheerful surroundings ; the smoky huts be- 
hind the glowing fir trees, the tumble-down stables, the sadly- 
flowing brook." 

" It is true," the woman said, as they both stopped, " if one 
but draws near that place he becomes sad and uneasy, yet can- 
not tell why. I should like to know who the people really are 
who live there, and why they hold themselves aloof from every 
one else in the community, as if they had evil consciences." 

" Miserable creatures," the young farmer replied, " who look 
like gipsies, rob and cheat at a distance, and perhaps have their 
hiding-place here. I only wonder that the lord of the manor 
allows it." 

" Ah ! they may be poor people," said his wife softly, " who 
are ashamed of their poverty, for nothing evil can be said of 
them ; only it is strange that they do not go to church, and one 
really cannot tell what they live on, for the little garden, which 


appears to be entirely uncultivated, cannot support them, and 
they have no fields." 

"The dear God knows," Martin continued as they walked 
on, " what they do ; no human being comes to them, for the place 
where they live is, as it were, charmed and enchanted, so that 
the most prying fellow will not trust himself in it." 

This conversation they held as they walked through the fields. 
That dark region of which they spoke lay beyond the village. 
In a hollow, surrounded by fir trees, was a hut and several 
almost ruinous barns ; very rarely did smoke rise behind from 
those trees, and still more rarety was a human being to be seen 
there. A few inquisitive persons who had gone somewhat nearer, 
had seen at times on the bench before the hut some hideous women, 
in tattered garments, on whose laps equally hideous and dirty 
children were tumbling. Black dogs ran around the enclosure, 
and of an evening an unknown man of extraordinary size, whom 
nobody knew, went over the small bridge which crossed the 
brook and disappeared in the hut ; then in the darkness several 
figures were seen moving like shadows around a gipsy fire. This 
valley, the fir trees, and the tumble-down huts, formed, indeed, 
a most curious contrast with the green landscape, the white 
houses of the village, and the splendid new castle. 

Both the children had now eaten the fruit ; it occurred to them 
to run races, and the agile little Marie always came out ahead of 
the slow Andres. " It is not fair," the latter finally cried out, 
" but let us try a longer distance ; then we shall see who wins !" 
"As you wish," said the little one ; " only we cannot run toward 
the stream." "No," answered Andres, "but there, on that hill, 
stands the large pear-tree, about a quarter of a mile from here ; 
I will run to the left around the fir-grove, you can run to the 
right through the field ; so we shall not meet till we get up the 
hill, then we will see who is the better racer." 

" Good," said Marie, and immediately began to run. " We 
will not be in each other's way, and father says that it is the same 
distance up the hill, whether you go on this or on the other side 
of the Gipsies' dwelling." 


Andres had alreadysprung forward, and Marie, who turned 
to the right, could no longer see him. " It is really silly," she 
said to herself. "If I could only get the courage to run ovef 
the bridge, around by the hut, and across the yard, I should cer- 
tainly be there before him." She was already close to the brook 
and the grove of firs. "Shall I? No, it is too frightful," she 
said. A little white dog was standing on the other side, barking 
with all his might. In her fright he seemed to Marie a mon- 
ster, and she sprang back. " O, O !" said she, " now that little 
wretch has gone ever so far ahead because I have stopped here 
considering !" The little dog kept barking, and now that she 
looked at it more closely, it no longer seemed frightful to her, 
but on the contrary exceedingly pretty : it had a red collar 
around its neck, with a shining bell, and as it raised its head and 
shook it in barking, the bell tinkled very sweetly. " Well ! I 
can but try it!" cried the little girl. " I will run as fast as I can 
and be quick, quick out on the other side again ; they cannot 
eat me up alive in a second !" With this the light-hearted child 
sprang on the bridge, and rushed quickly by the little dog, which 
became quiet, and fawned upon her ; and now she stood on dry 
ground, and all arouud her the black fir-trees hid from view her 
father's house, and the rest of the landscape. 

But how great was her amazement ! She stood in the midst 
of the gayest, most beautiful flower-garden, in which tulips, roses 
and lilies flaunted in the most brilliant colors ; blue and gold 
butterflies swung gently in the flowers ; many-colored birds sang 
glorious songs, as they hung in cages of shining wire on the es- 
paliers ; and children in short white dresses, with golden curls and 
sjiarkling eyes, were springing about, some playing with lamb- 
kins, others feeding the birds, or gathering flowers and giving 
them to one another; others again were eating cherries, grapes, 
and rosy apricots. No hut was to be seen, but there stood a 
large, beautiful mansion, with bronze doors and raised carvings, 
shining in the midst of the space. Marie was beside herself with 
surprise, and could not collect her thoughts; but as she was not 
timid, she walked straight up to the first child, extended her 
hand to her, and bade her good-day. 


" Have you come to see us at last ?" said the shining child ; 
w I saw you running and playing across the brook, but you were 
afraid of our little dog." 

"So you are not gipsies and rogues," said Marie, " as Andres 
always says ? But he is a silly fellow and babbles nonsense all 
the day long." 

" Only stay with us," said the wondrous little one. " We will 
make you happy." 

" But we are running a race." 

" You will return soon enough. There, take and eat." 

Marie ate and found the fruit sweeter than any she had ever 
before tasted ; and Andres, the race, and the prohibition of her 
parents were forgotten. A tall lady in shining garments drew 
near and inquired about the strange child. 

" Beautiful lady," said Marie, " I ran here by chance, and now 
they want to keep me." 

" Thou knowest, Zerina," said the beautiful one, " that only a 
short stay is allowed her ; and besides you ought to have asked 
me first." 

" I thought," said the shining child, " that as she was permit- 
ted to cross the bridge, I could do it ; we have seen her so often 
running in the field, and thou thyself hast been charmed by her 
bright ways ; she will have to leave us soon enough." 

" No, I will stay here," said the stranger, " for it is beautiful 
here ; here too I shall find the finest playthings, besides straw- 
berries and cherries. Over there it is not so grand." 

The lady dressed in golden garments withdrew smiling) and 
many of the children now sprang laughing around the happy 
Marie, teasing her and inviting her to dance ; others brought her 
lambs, or wonderful playthings ; still others made music on in- 
struments and sang to it. But she preferred to stay with the 
playmate who had first come to meet her ; for she was the kind- 
est and the sweetest of all. Little Marie cried out from time to 
time : " I will always stay with you, and you shall be my sis- 
ters," at which all the children laughed, and embraced her. 
" Now we will have a charming sport," said Zerina. She ran 


hastily into the palace, and returned with a little golden box, 
containing glittering seeds like dust. She took a few grains in 
her little fingers and strewed them on the ground. Immediately 
the grass rustled and waved, and in a few minutes shining rose- 
bushes sprang from the ground, grew up quickly, and unfolded 
their buds, while the most delightful odor filled the air. Marie 
also took some of the dust, and when she had sprinkled it around, 
white lilies and variegated pinks sprang up together. At a sign 
from Zerina the flowers vanished, and others appeared in their 
places. " Now," said Zerina," prepare thyself to see something 
greater." She laid two pine kernels on the ground, and stamped 
vehemently upon them with her feet. Two green bushes stood 
before them. " Take a firm hold of me," she said, and Marie 
threw her arms around Zerina's slender form. Then she felt her- 
self lifted up, for the trees were growing under them, with the 
greatest speed. The lofty pines swayed to and fro, and both the 
children held each other fast, and hovered in the evening clouds, 
embracing and kissing each other ; the other little ones 
climbed nimbly up and down the trunks of the trees, and laugh- 
ingly pushed and teased one another when they met. If one of 
the children in the press happened to fall, it flew through the 
air, and sank slowly and softly to the earth. After a while 
Marie became frightened ; Zerina sang a few loud notes, and the 
trees sank down again, and set them upon the ground just as 
softly as they had at first risen up to the clouds. 
[to be continued.] 




" Whereas Literary persuit, and a thorough knowledge of 
the sience of Music, and the art of properly executing the same 
(both vocal and instrumental) has ever been held in the highest 
estimation from the earliest ages as one of the first accomplish- 
ments in refined society ; And as the cultivation of Sacred Mu- 
sical sounds have ever been characterized by the harmonizing 
influence with which it pervades the social Circle of its votaries, 
harmonizing their minds, elevating their spirits, purifying their 
hearts, and uniting them in sentiment, and harmonizing action 
in the performance of the many important duties enjoined upon 
them by the rules of well regulated society, and the Holy man- 
dates of the Allwise, Glorious, and Powerful creator. Regulator, 
and Harmonizer of the universe, which to his holy name sings 
forth one continual song of praise, as it performs its several du- 
ties of continual progress. Therefore are we loudly called upon, 
as rational beings : The nobles of God's creation to read & 
practice the divine laws of God. to study the Great Book of na- 
ture & behold the harmonious workings of the universe, learn 
wisdom and the sience of progress. 

Therefore be it Resolved in order to form a more perfect 
union, and to establish a more friendly and refined state of so- 
ciety among us. und the rising generations of our race ; that we 
do organize into a Sacred and Secular musical and Literary Pro- 
gressive Union, and do agree to be governed by the following — 

Constitution and By-Laws. 

Article 1st. — This association shall be known as the Afric- 
American Adult, and Juvenile Progressive Union. 

Article 2nd. — The chief object of the Association shall be to 
cultivate and improve the fine feeling of our nature, and the 
thorough development of our intellectual faculties : By the prac- 
tice of Morality. Sociality. Harmony and Melody. Litriture and 


Article 3rd.— All persons desirous of becoming members of the 
Literary department of this association must be of good moral 
character, and able to read and write — And to enter the musi- 
cal department they must be additionally able to read music 
in all the keys. 

Article Aih. — The initiation fee to this association shall be 
fifty (50) cents and a general tax of five (5) cents per month 
there-after, which, with the finds imposed, and assessments 
made upon the members, shall constitute a general fund for con- 
tingent expencies." 

Detroit-Michigan 1862. 

(Copied, verbatim, et literatim, et speleatim, et punctatim from 
the archives of the " Union " by the Rev. ) E. E. 


Combien de fois, entend on des personnes dire. " Oh ! que je 
voudrais litre invisible, et me voir comme, on me voit. Ah ! ils 
ne saveat combien il est heureux, qu' ils ne peuvent se voir. 
Cette affirmation, je puis la faire, ayant moi meme subit l'epreuve, 
de ce qu' ils voudraient si follement savoir. Je vais maintenant 
raconter ma propre experience, et Ton pourra juger, si elle n'est 
pas un peu drole." 

C'etait un beau jour d'ete, et je me reposais, sous un arbre, 
avec un livre de contes de fees at souhaitant que les jours des f£es 
ne fussent pas passes, at que j'eusse une bonne fee, qui me donna 
tont ce que je pourrais desirer, mais surtout, un anneau, qui me 
rendrait invisible. Soudainement j'entends un leger bruit der- 
riere moi, et en me tournant, ma surprise m'obligea de me lever. 
Devant moi, etait la plus belle petite dame, avec de grands yeux 
gris, et des cheveaux qui tombaient presque a terre. 

Ella portait une robe blanche, brillante comme la lune. 

Ancun ornement n' etait sur sa personne, mais dans sa main- 
elle tenait un anneau d'or. "Que voulez-vous? " dit elle et sa 
voix ressemblait a un carrillon de cloches d'argent. Voulez-vous 


etre invisible ? Vous-ai-je bien entendu ? Je fus si surprise, que 
je ne pus a peine dire, Oui Madame," Eh bien, dit-elle," c'est 
un souliait tr&s ridicule, mais vous l'aurez. J'ai ici un petit an- 
nean, et quand vous voulez 6tre invisible, mettez-le sur votre 
petit doigt. - Si a l'avenir vous ne vous en trouvez pas bien vous 
pouvez me le rendre en frottant l'anneau et je parltrai. Adieu. 
Elle disparut, et je fus senle. Je voulus essayer mon anneau 
immediatement ; mais je ne pus me decider oil porter mes pre- 
miers pas. Je resolus enfin d'aller, chez une de mes amies. 
Quand j'y arrivai la porte etait ouverte et j'entrai au salon. 

J'y trouvai deux de mes amies, occupies, a parler de moi. 

J'e'coutai un moment, et je fus bien surprise d'enteudere, que 
j'etais "une pauvre petite." 

J'avais pense" que j'etais bien grande, mais maintenant, je venais 
d'entendre dire, que j'etais petite. 

Helas, pour mon amour propre ! is fat extr&nement blesse, et 
j'aurais bien voulu leur dire qu'elles avaient tort. Bientot j'en- 
tendis une autre chose qui me frappa. " Oui dit une autre, elle a 
les yeux bien petits." Cela est trop fort, me dis-je! Moi! les 
yeux petits ! 

Vraiment ce sont elles qui ne peuvent voir les miens. J'avais 
toujours pense que mes yeux etaient bien grands. C'etait la 
seconde chose merveilleuse que j'entendais. 

Mais comme par mon propre choix je m'etais rendue in- 
visible, je fus forcee de me taire, et d'endurer jusqu' au bout, 
tout ce que je m'etais attire" par ma folie. Entierement satisfaite 
de ce que j'avais entendu je n'eus plus envie de contrinuer mon 
chemin, et quittant la chambre, je me dirigeai aussi vite que 
possible a mon jardin, pour revoir la f6e, et me defaire de mon 
anneau. Je me mis instammenent a, le frotter, suivant l'ordre que 
j'avais recu, et la nieme belle dame se presenta devant moi a qui, 
apres l'avoir remercie, je le rendis, lui disant en meme temps que 
je ne voulais plus le revoir. 

" Ah ! dit elle me regardant gracieusement et avec bonteV' 
"Vousvoyez maintenant, combien il est heureux que vous ne 
puissez avoir tout ce que vous desirez, et rappellez vous qu' en 


vous accordant le don que vous desireriez, ce n'etait que 
pour vous enseigner cette lecon. "Adieu. Elle partit, et 
je restai sans fe"e et sans anneau, mais une personne plus sage et 
plus raisonable. Et maintenant mes bons amis, quoiqu' on dise 
souvent avec 1' Ayrshire Ploughman le poete a la langue doere 
de la Caledonie "O wad some pow'r the giftie gie us to see our- 
sel's as others see us." Je repete qu' il est bien hereux que nous 
n'ayons pas ce don et prenez garde de le desirer ; ca ril pourait 
vous apparaitre une ft?e, non pas, bonne comme la mienne, mais 
une mauvaise, qui ne serait pas si prete a reprendre l'anneau que 
vous aviez recu d'elle. 






Subscription. — One copy, per year, 50 cents. Single num- 
bers 10 cents. 

fi@" Correspondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the book store of A. Williams 
& Co. 

The publisher wishes to give notice that in the hurry of Com- 
mencement Week the Muse has not received that attention 
which it is intended it shall receive hereafter. Mr. Eugene 
Thayer, of Boston, has promised to contribute articles on musi- 
cal matters, and no pains will be spared to make the Muse val- 
uable as a school magazine. The next number will be issued in 

Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 10th of the month, 
are requested to notify us at once. The Muse will be issued 
monthly during term time, or nine numbers a year, and adver- 
tisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a year's con- 
tract. All matters on business should be addressed to the Pub- 
lisher, St. Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C. 


" The last day of school !" With how many different intona- 
tions these words are uttered ! The voices of some speak them 
lightly and carelessly, others again with pure happiness; while 
others still utter them with deep regret and seriousness, recog- 
nizing that a new page in life's history is to be turned, present- 
ing mingled good and ill. 


At one moment the thought that the restrictions of school are 
over gives us a sense of freedom, the very novelty of which 
makes it charming. But again the knowledge that we are leav- 
ing forever our dear school, the little chapel from whose pulpit 
we have received so many never-to-be-forgotten lessons, our 
kind teachers and loved school mates, turns our joy to grief, and 
we could almost wish it the beginning of the term, instead of our 
much talked of and wished for " class day." 

The parting is particularly sad to us, the members of the 
" Pierian." We have clung together in sunshine and tempest, 
joy and sorrow, and have endeavored to do our mite to add ra- 
ciness and interest to the columns of the Muse. 

We offer our sincere thanks to all those who have smiled on 
our first journalistic efforts, and have encouraged us both by a 
kindly criticism of our writings, and by contributions of their 

We tender particularly warm thanks to Mrs. Norah Cannon, 
our former teacher, who, though called to pursue her duties at a 
distance, has not forgotten " St. Mary's," and has favored us 
with two beautiful poems. 

Thanks are also due to our errant sister, " Calliope," so long 
absent from us, but now again brought to our knowledge and to 
our hearts by her charming contributions to our columns. She 
has indeed proved that her wanderings in the cold North have 
not chilled her heart, which still beats warmly for her sisters in 
the Sunny South. 

The pleasure with which "A Visit to Salem," by "S. S.," was 
read, urges us, while expressing our gratitude for that contribu- 
tion, to beg for another from the same pen. 

Nor would we forget our faithful Boston correspondent who 
has kept us " au courant " with the news of the great " Hub." 

We trust that the " Pierian " of next year will find as kind 

friends as we have, and will do them infinitely more credit. For 

ive must yield to the rising generation, and retire to rest upon our 

laurels (let none be so unkind as to enquire where they are). 

Success to the " Pierian of the Future !" 

" Upon their pen sit laurel victory !" 

The Pierian Club. 



The great object had in view by the founder of this school, — 
the object to which he devoted his life, — was so to educate those 
who were committed to his care that they might go forth into 
the world, devoted daughters of the Church. His one absorbing 
desire was that his pupils, while in his charge, should consecrate 
body, soul and spirit, to the service of their Lord and Saviour 
Jesus Christ ; and that afterwards, wherever their lot might be 
cast, they should spread around them, in the family and in so- 
ciety, the blessed influence of holy lives. 

To prepare them for this reasonable offering of themselves to 
the glory of their Creator and to the good of humanity, it was 
his unwearied effort to draw forth and develope all their powers. 

The intellect was to be disciplined, good habits of study to be 
formed, and ready command of acquired knowledge and of quick- 
ened faculties to be attained. 

The moral and religious sensibilities were to be guided, re- 
fined and elevated by the teachings of the Church, and by the 
precept and example of teachers chosen with careful regard to 
this most important consideration. In all academic knowledge, 
adapted to the age and sex of his scholars, in the whole domain 
of belles lettres and the arts, as well as in the lighter accomplish- 
ments which are regarded as peculiarly feminine, it was the aim 
and work of his tireless energy to perfect them in whatever was 
useful, pure, lovely, and of good report. And what was to be 
the incentive to their self-denying toil ? The pupil's unremit- 
ting labor for her own improvement was to be bestowed not with 
a view to mere worldly gains, or from any other low impulse of 
selfishness ; not that success at school might qualify her to shine 
afterwards in society, attracting attention and respect from all 
capable of appreciating intellectual and aesthetic culture ; not 
even that she might be prepared, if occasion should arise, for 
the successful employment of her own energies in self-support 
or in aiding others. Such, no doubt, under God's blessing would 


be the fruit of her faithful discharge of school duty, but a loftier 
motive was to constrain her efforts. All this earnest work of 
self culture was to be undertaken in order to fit her for the ser- 
vice of her God. 

The laws of physical health, moreover, were to be understood 
and the body carefully exercised ; the appetites, the passions, 
the affections controlled by habits of obedience to the law of 
God's commandments ; the spirit, the intellect and those facul- 
ties which, by reason of their capacity for what seems to us al- 
most infinite development, separate man from the brute crea- 
tion, — was to be instructed and strengthened to the utmost, that 
the pupil in the most complete development might offer herself 
to her Master. As under the old dispensation the animals and 
fruits offered in the temple were each after its kind to be of 
blameless perfection ; so, too, she who was entrusted to his care 
when presenting herself to the service of her God was joyously 
to unfold, in the highest state of improvement, all the best gifts 
of body, soul and spirit. As in the Olympic games the contests 
of the pentathlum were instituted to prevent any one-sided mas- 
tery, and to elaborate in all particular kinds of dexterity a com- 
plete gymnastic perfection ; so in his pupils would he have had a 
full, well-rounded development; that their whole spirit, soul 
and body might be presented a living sacrifice, holy and accept- 
able to God. 

His work has been laid upon us. The holy purpose he had 
in view when lie laid the foundation of this school must ever 
animate us. That you may go out from St. Mary's blessed by 
the influences which have surrounded you while here, and a bless- 
ing to all with whom you may be associated must be the supreme 
object of our endeavor. To this end we shall ever strive to furn- 
ish you with all the means and appliances necessary to the com- 
plete growth of your being. No pains shall be spared to provide 
you with teachers, not only well informed upon the various sub- 
jects intrusted to them, but capable also of imparting information, 
of exciting enthusiasm in the pursuit of knowledge, and of stim- 
ulating the pupil with the desire for self-culture and self-educa- 


It was the high aim of the founder of St. Mary's to prepare 
you as an offering for the Infinitely wise, the Infinitely holy, the 
Infinitely loving God ! How true, how honest, how thorough, 
then, must be our work ; from the elementary teaching of the 
kindergarten to the most advanced instruction of the higher de- 
partments ! With what stern severity must everything like 
faithlessness to our great responsibility be opposed, every tempta- 
tion to substitute an effort after mere external show and frivolous 
accomplishments for the consecration of all our powers to the sa- 
cred duty of presenting the pupils committed to our care fault- 
less in body, soul and spirit. 

As an acknowledgment of our great purpose, and of our belief 
that from above, from the Father of Lights cometh every good 
and perfect gift, we meet in this holy place, specially set apart 
for His worship, to offer Him in these testimonials, now laid 
upon His altar, the first fruits of such self-dedication. It is, 
we trust, no unworthy, no unacceptable offering. These honors 
of your school, which it shall be our happiness to confer, are the 
result of continuous, persevering, successful effort, not only for 
excellence in literary and aesthetic culture ; they indicate also 
that you aim at that moral superiority, that true Christian char- 
acter which it is the special labor of this school to impart. But 
there are many among you who, though they have not reached 
the highest rewards of the scholastic coui-se, have nevertheless 
shown dispositions so amiable and an application so steady as to 
assure us that the best gifts will yet be within their grasp. Of 
this number some entered too late to compete for the highest 
honors. Some lost grade through absence. Others have failed 
because their habits of study were not fully developed. Another 
year will see them coming to the front with well earned prizes 
in their possession. In the consciousness of a session well spent, 
such scholars may joyfully return to their homes and claim the 
parental embrace with the satisfaction of having well improved 
the opportunities they have enjoyed. 

Some of you, like those athletes at the Olympian games, who 
were permitted to contend for the highest rewards, have gone 


through the entire course of study prescribed for graduation. 
To you we give a special testimonial in the form of a diploma, 
to certify you and all others whom it may interest that you have 
devoted time to the work of your education ; that the course 
pursued has been a literal one, and that you have carried your 
school work to advancement, which indicates maturity of intel- 
lect and fitness to begin the life of a teacher, or to direct your 
own further studies with every prospect of successful progress. 
With fear and trembling, and yet with pride and confidence, we 
send you out into the world, trusting that you will be ornaments 
of society and instruments of good in your generation ; that you 
will scorn and loath all meanness and turn with a certain hon- 
est haughtiness of nature from the baser and more degrading 
forms of vice ; that you have determined to live by God's grace 
lives pure and true, and serviceable, and to continue Christ's 
faithful soldiers and servants to your life's end. 

You will return no more as pupils, but the tie which has been 
forming during the years that you have been with us ; which 
has been strengthened by such intimate acquaintance and de- 
lightful intercourse ; the tie which has been so solemnly ce- 
mented by holy prayers and sweet communions in this sacred 
place and around that hallowed altar, can never be severed ! 
Wherever you may go, remember that St. Mary's is always and 
under all circumstances of weal or woe your home — that her 
arms will ever be open to give you a loving welcome. 

And now in the name of our Lady Principal and of your 
teachers, I thank you one and all for the unvarying kindness and 
respect with which you have always treated us ; and as your 
Rector, I pray that the blessing of God the Father, God the 
Son, and God the Holy Spirit, may ever rest upon you ! 



Grand, Spars Si Upright Piano Forks, and Dps, 

Factory, Cor, St, Peter and Sterrett Sts, Warerooms, 373 W, Baltimore St, 

Opp. the Entaw House. 

These instruments have been prominently before the 
Public for the last fifteen years. Their durability, 
their workmanship and their general excel- 
lence in all respects, have gained for them an unpur- 
chased pre-eminence. Constructed of the Very 
Best Material. Every Instrument fully 
(/uaranteed for five years. 

For illustrated catalogue and references apply to above address. 






No. 19 Fayettevi.lle Street, 

RALEIGH, If'., O- 


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Fine Teas, Wines and Liquors, Ales and Porters, and 

Groceries and Provisions generally. 
FayettecilJe Street, Baleigh, J¥. C. 





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(FOI'NDED 1842! 

The Rt. Rev. Thos. Atkix.sox, I). D., LL. D. 


The Rt. Rev. Theo. B. Lymax, D. D. 





The 75th Term will begin Thursday, September 
11th, 1879. 

Efficient teachers in every department. 

The finest situation in the South. Large, commo- 
dious buildings. Every advantage offered for Men- 
tal, Moral and Physical Education. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars, 
address the Rector. 





Vol. II. RALEIGH, N. C, OCTOBER. 1879. No. 2. 


coNTJSJsrrs : 


The Reined Masxiox— Hobart D. Whitney 1 

Washington Allston — Louise C. Alston 8 

The "Bab" Ballads- A'. D 11 

Letter from Calliope 12 

The Old Maid's Holiday — W. E. Norris, (from Belgravia,) 13 
The Elves — Ti-anshrted from the German of Ludwig Tiec/c by 

Miss Blanche E. Griffin 28 

Editorial; &c 32 


RALEIGH, n. o. 






l j j Near Warrenton, Fauquier County, Va. 

40 Miles from Washington, 


Recommended for Location, Health, Morality, Scholarship and 

A first-class Virginia School, in which is taught in addition to 
the Classics, Elementary Law and Medicine. 

The Military does not interfere with School duties, and 
the officers are commissioned by the Governor of the State. 
No. of Students 117. No. Teachers 7. 

BOARD AND TUITION {Half-Session), $95.00. 

Address, for catalogue, 

Maj. J±. G.SMITH, Supt., 

BetM Academy P, o„ Runnier County, Va. 





French, English and German Perfumery, 



wT. SwJ^i JCwJav^J£«]IES= 


Imnorter ai Pifslier of Music. 

Sole Agent for the famous EDITION PETERS, (Leipzic) 
AUGENER & CO., (London) and BREITKOPF& HAERTEL (Leipzic). 

Catalogues sent free on application. 

Besides these and my own renowned publications, I have a 
COMPLETE STOCK of all European publications and receive by 
weekly importations all the new works of celebrated Authors. 

Music sent for selection to Teachers and Seminaries on the 
most liberal terms. 

St. Mary's Muse. 

Vol. II. RALEIGH, N. O, OCTOBER, 1879. No. 2. 


We plodded through the fine and crumbling snow 

Along the desolate road, on either hand 

Enclosed by tall, lank trees, and starving shrubs, 

Grown hideous in their shapes, from long neglect, 

All shivering in the bitter winter wind, 

And soon we reached the spot where lately stood 

The old white manor-house among the elms — 

A quaint old house, deep-gabled, long and low ; 

With heavy-columned portico in front, 

Inviting ingress with broad marble steps ; 

With wide, old-fashioned door, and windows low ; 

And towering over all, with haughty air 

Tall, stately chimneys stood like sentinels. 

Ah, treacherous guards ! Ye shielded not your charge 

From ruin by the Fire-Fiend's direful hand ! 

Two hundreds ago, 
Beneath the hands of busy masons grew, 

With gradual rise and slow, 
The central walls of yonder mansion. 

The ringing trowels flew, 
The mortar and the brick beneath deft hands 

Took firm symmetric form. 

The wasting storm 
Through twice a hundred winters o'er the lands 


Should roar and rage, but should not harm those walls. 

And as the building slowly rose in height, 
In sockets firm and tight 
Through spacious rooms and halls 

The floors were fixed with many a heavy stanchion. 

The workman's cheerful call 

Resounded over all, 
As friendly chat went round, or help was needed. 

The hours flew by unheeded, 
Chased by the hand of Industry. 

In constant jollity 
The happy laborers talked and laughed, 

And many a shaft 
Of frank, good-natured satire hurled about, 
In curt, sharp phrases of a foreign tongue ; 

Till laughter rang again 
Among the blithe, light-hearted men, 

With long and merry shout; 
And many a jovial song was sung. 

Ah, free, contented Dutch! 

Not long ere sorrow's touch 
Assailed you in your home in the New World ; 

Before the shafts of war were hurled 
Among your happy homes, and fire and sword 
Had seared and cut the bonds of sweet accord. 

And now the walls are finished : 

Anon the sloping roof 
Is raised and rendered weather-proof. 

With labor undiminished 
The carpenters and joiners work within. 

The hammer and the plane 

With constant din, 
Resound through all the chambers, till at last 


No lingering tasks remain. 

The carpenter makes fast 
The few remaining pieces merrily ; 

Shouts out in glee, 
As in its place he nails the final one — 

And all is done. 

And now a Knickerbocker bride and groom 

Are ushered into the new house. 

Through every decorated room 
The happy husband and his blooming spouse 

Are led in merry pomp. 

With joyous romp 
The buxom maidens flee pursuit 
From sturdy youths that chase them, 
Lest catching they embrace them. 
Loud rings the laughter through the halls, 

And echoing from the walls, 
Delights the ears of parents fond, 
Rejoicing in their children's marriage bond, 
Who sit complacently and listen mute 

To all the sounds of merriment 
With perfect satisfaction and content. 

The swift hours fly 

In frolic by, 
Until the joyous feast is o'er. 

Then through the open door, 
Projecting through the gloom its long bright light, 

The guests depart into the night, 

The happy pair alone remains, 
And o'er the new-made home sweet stillness reigns. 

The time flies swiftly on, 
And lit by love's celestial rays, 
In peace and comfort pass the happy days. 

Soon months and years are gone, 
And daily grows the love of man and wife, 


Each seeing in the other more and more 
To love and to admire, unseen before ; 

And in their daily life 
Each feels dependence on the other's aid, 
And love by greater love is aye repaid. 

The blooming bride 
Is now a stately matron, and beside 
The bounteous board bright, ruddy faces shine, 
The offspring of the fruitful vine, 
Like olive branches round about the table. 

The lusty bridegroom now, 
With stamp of manhood's prime upon his brow, 

And air serene and stable, 
In portly dignity maintains the head. 
He quaffs his beer in foaming bumper red, 
The froth from off bis beard he blows, 
And puffs his pipe, and sinks into a doze. 

Year in, year out, the self-same scene 

Repeats itself in dull routine. 

The hearty mother waxes fat ; 

The sturdy father's beard is streaked with gray 

And every day, 
His daughters, coming to receive the pat 
He gives them with caressing hand, 
Must stoop still lower, as they stand 
Beside his chair, that he may reach 
Their cheeks that ripen like the peach, 
As childhood grows to maindenhood. 
And now his sons relieve his care, 
Each doing his allotted share 
Of labor on his father's farm, 

In field and wood, 
In planting and in raising food. 
And growing strong in frame and arm, 


The boys are strapping youths awhile, and then 

Are sturdy men. 
At last, when sire and mother have grown gray, 
And joy has crowned the golden-wedding day, 

And when each aged head 
Has worn the grand-parental diadem, 
The last long sleep has fall'n on them, 

And they are numbered with the dead. 
The generation ceases ; and the lands 

Pass into other hands. 

The new possessor of the broad domains 
In lavish elegance maintains 

His new estate. 

With preparations great, 
He fits it for his country residence ; 
Adorns the grounds with every ornament 

That Nature lends to Art, 

Nor rests content 
'Till gold has decorated every part 
With all of wealth's magnificence. 
The skilful workmen speedily 
Despatch their tasks with hurrying hands and feet. 

The mansion is enlarged to meet 

The needs of hospitality. 
Two wings are added ; from side to side 
Along the front is stretched on timbers wide 
The broad old-fashioned porch, with long, low roof 

On heavy columns held aloof. 

Within, the house is decked 

With everything that riches can collect 

Of costly ornament and rare. 

And soon the stately air 
Of wealth's calm elegance is given to all. 
Soft carpets hush the echoes of the hall, 
Rich paintings hang on every wall ; 
The drawing-room displays the carvers' skill, 


The silver-studded woodwork sparkles bright, 
And gleams with ever- varying light; 
Each turn discloses some new sight, 
And antique what-nots every corner fill. 

Tho larders overflow with bounteous store, 

The vaults beneath their sparkling wealth outpour 

In boundless streams of gold and ruby wine. 

A thousand things combine 
To fit the mansion for its destiny 

Of life and mirth and revelry. 

And now adown the long green avenue 

Approach a merry train 
Of dashing riders — many a courtly swain, 

And many a beauteous maiden. 
With joyous laughter all the air is laden, 
As fair and laughing faces come in view. 

Standing before 

The open door, 
The host and hostess now appear ; 
And as the cavalcade draws near 

Wave welcome to their guests, 

The while a ringing shout attests 

The cordial greeting they return. 
Then at the door the troop dismount ; 
While eager maiden lips recount 
The incidents that marked the way, 
The choicest gossip of the day ; 

And all the tidings that concern 
Their absent friends the host and hostess learn. 

A sumptuous banquet waits them, 

Whose rich profusion sates them. 

Their host then leads the rounds 

Of all the stately grounds, 
And next displays the beauties of the mansion ; 
Then from the wide veranda at the rear 


They view the landscape spreading far and near, 
And see before them, shining clear, 

The Hudson's broad expansion. 
And here they sit and watch the day sink down, 
And see the roseate sunset-glory crown 
The purple mountains, and the clouds overhead 

All steeped in glowing red. 

Then Night o'ershadows all the land, 
As with the hollow of her hand, 
While like the gem of her inverted ring 

The crescent moon appears. 

And as the luminary nears 

The mountains in the west, 
Behold yon maid, with heaving breast, 

And arms that fondly cling, 
To him who in his close embrace 
Upholds her, as with gentle pace 
They stroll along from walk to walk, 
In far too blissful mood to talk : 
'Tis doubtful e'en if either sees 
The moonbeams flashing through the trees. 
Let none reproach that happy pair, 
For true and blameless love is there. 

Ere long the night-dews fall ; 

And now the rovers seek the dancing hall. 

With graceful forms and nimble heels 

They mingle in gavots and reels ; 

The dancers in their glee forget 

The slow and stately minuet ; 

Nor till the time-piece stern and tall 

Announces with its solemn call 

The hour of midnight, do they cease, 

And leave the mansion to repose and peace. 

[to be continued.] 



America boasts as yet but few great men, but those few are 
such as command her lasting love and gratitude, and high on 
the list we find the name of her great artist, Washington Allston. 
He was a native of South Carolina ; but, when very young, 
was sent North for his health, which, being very delicate, re- 
quired a more bracing climate than his native State could afford. 
He early gave evidence of great genius, and before completing 
his freshman year at Harvard, determined to embrace Art as his 
calling. From this time he devoted all the spare moments, which 
boys generally give to play, to the cultivation of his striking 
talent. Speaking of his childhood, he says : " My chief pleasure 
now was in drawing from prints of all kinds of figures, land- 
scapes and animals. But I soon began to make pictures of my 
own, at what age, however, I cannot say. The earliest compo- 
sitions that I remember, were : The Storming of Count Roderick's 
Castle, from a poor (though to me delightful) romance of the 
day, and The Siege of Toulon. To these succeeded many others 
which have likewise passed into oblivion. Though I never had 
any regular instruction in the art, (a circumstance both idle and 
absurd to boast of) I had much incidental instruction which I 
have always through life been glad to receive from those in ad- 
vance of myself. " 

These boyish efforts must have shown his need of instruction, 
for he himself, after his fame was established, on seeing one of 
his youthful productions, and quite ignorant that it was his own, 
declared that "that youth had better turn his attention to some- 
thing else;" but "that youth" had astonished England and 
America by his wonderful genius. 

During his stay in Europe, where he went for the purpose of 
study, his charming conversation and agreeable, gentle manners 
won for him many friends. In company with Coleridge and our 
Irving he traveled through Italy and was a fellow-student with 


Thorwaldsen in Rome, in which place he delighted to study the 
old masters. He soon showed a preference for the Venetian 
(School, and on account of his own beautiful and delicate color- 
ing was called in Rome the " American Titian." In his paint- 
ings he evinces a marked partiality for mysterious and awful 
subjects ; he tells us that when a boy he delighted to hear stories 
of ghosts and goblins, and many of the ideas then received he 
probably afterwards conveyed to canvas. He thoroughly loved 
and enjoyed his art, but his standard was so high that he seldom 
or never was satisfied with his own efforts, though he had al- 
ways for others an encouraging and sympathizing word. With 
his pure artist temperament he lived away from the world, 
but in his heart glowed the keenest love and sympathy for his 
fellows. Painters and literary men sought his company, de- 
lighted to talk with him and hear his opinions. We can see him 
sitting in his little study in his old-fashioned dress, with his long 
white hair, broad brow and eloquent eyes, aiding perhaps with 
his gifted brush the efforts of some young student, or pondering 
over the last touch on his own canvas. He must have met with 
many and great discouragements in his artist-life, for he was 
thrown entirely upon himself, being, as it were, the pioneer, in 
this country, of the profession he had chosen. But his love of 
nature helped him much. While living in his Northern home 
he frequently asked about the pine forests of Carolina, saying he 
knew of nothing more entrancing than the play of light and 
shade on a mild sun-shiny winter day in an unbroken forest of 
pines. Strange as it may seem, he found it difficult to paint to 
order, and declined the commission of decorating the Capitol at 
Washington, a work that would have kept him forever in the 
remembrance of the nation. But he painted wonderfully his own 
imaginings, as his works testify. Of " Jacob's Dream," one of his 
most famous canvases, he says : " It has been often painted before, 
but I have treated it in a very different manner from any picture 
I have ever seen ; for instead of two or three angels I have in- 
troduced a vast multitude, and instead of a ladder or narrow 
steps, I have endeavored to give the idea of immeasurable flights 


of steps with platform above platform, rising and extending into 
space immeasurable." Another of his famous pictures, remark- 
able though unfinished, is Belshazzar's Feast. "The exhibition 
of Allston's Feast of Belshazzar," says a late writer, " established 
an era in the history of painting." The immense canvas now 
fills one of the Avails of the Boston Athenaeum. The whole 
right side of the picture is wiped out, the outlines only remain- 
ing to show the artist's impatience with anything that fell short 
of his high ideal ; but the heads and figures that remain are 
studies. One, in particular, that of a keen, suspicious old Jew, 
stands out in bold relief. No one knows for whom he was in- 
tended, but all feel the truth and power of his expression, and 
we think of the Shylock or Isaac who might have been in its 
model. Allston did not confine himself to painting, though his 
productions in this line so far eclipse his literary works that the 
latter are comparatively unknown. Indeed, these explain the 
latter, for his love and knowledge of art are clearly seen in his 
writings. Of his genius in painting, his own words, in which he 
describes the hero of his novel of Italian life, Monaldi, best de- 
fines it : " He differed no less in kind than in degree from his 
century. If he had anything in common with others, it was 
with those of ages past, with the mighty dead of the fifteenth 
century, from whom he had learned the language of his art ; but 
his thoughts and their turn of expression were his own." His 
poems were numerous, the best of which, " America to England," 
he addressed to his friend Coleridge. His death, as his life, 
realized the ideal of a Christian artist. Delighting in his pen 
and palette to the last, he passed quietly away while writing 
beside his desk. Thus closed in tranquil beauty the artist life 
and earthly being of Washington Allston, and we may say with- 
out exaggeration, that he was the greatest artist of his century ; 
more, the greatest that America has produced. 




Kingsley, in the Envoi to his delightful extravaganza, "Water 
Babies," begs all "unbelieving Sadducees" to 

" Leave a country muse at ease, 
To play at leap-frog, if she please." 

The muse which inspired the author of the " Bab " Ballads 
seems to belong to the town rather than to the country, though 
she has certainly been allowed to " play at leap-frog" as much as 
the veriest country hoyden of them all could desire ; but she per- 
forms her antics with such an airy grace that it does one good to 
turn away for a little while from the "dull conventionalities" of 
this every-day world and watch her playful gambols. 

In his preface the author tells us that these ballads have 
gained a "whimsical popularity," and whimsical they undoubt- 
edly are, but brim full of humor and sparkling fun, with a little 
dash of good-natured satire, which, like the bitter almond in the 
middle of a sugar plum, or the pinch of salt which a good cook 
adds to her plum pudding, serves to give a zest to the whole. 

The admirers of " Pinafore" will like the "Bab" Ballads none 
the less that many of them recall that charming medley of sense 
and nonsense. We believe that the " worthy Captain Reece, R. 
N.," is the elder of the two, but there is such a strong family 
likeness between him and the "well bred" Captain Corcoran that 
there must be a " nautical relationship," and we think even the 
great Sir Joseph might find one of his " sisters or his cousins or 
his aunts" on board the " Mantelpiece," to say nothing of " Little 

In speaking of these ballads we must not forget to notice the 
illustrations, which are by no means the worst part of the book, 
they are in the style of, and many of them not inferior to, Leech's 
inimitable vignettes, and, like them, have the power of calling to 


mind all sorts of old likenesses, rendered the more ludicrous by 
the grotesque absurdity of the picture which suggests them. 

It is perhaps safe to aver that if Thackeray had not written his 
ballads we should never have seen these. They cannot lay claim 
to entire originality, but because a clever thing has been done 
once is no reason it should not be repeated, so it be equally well 
done, and if we owe the "Bab" Ballads to Thackeray in the first 
instance, it only makes our debt of gratitude to him the larger. 
The most serious objection which can be urged against them is a 
slight want of respect for certain things which it is perhaps best 
not to hold up to ridicule, but nothing really good and true is ever 
hurt by a little good-natured raillery ; perhaps it serves as a very 
safe finger-post to keep people in the middle of the high road of 
moderation, and enables them to avoid all the pitfalls and quag- 
mires which are to be met with in the wilderness of extremes, 
which lies on either side. 

On the whole, we may conclude that any one who is induced, 
by seeing the name of Gilbert on the very pretty outside of this 
little book, to examine the inside, will not be disappointed, and 
that, if there be any truth in the maxium, "Laugh and grow fat," 
in spite of some rather heavy verses, Mr. Gilbert, in giving the 
" Bab" Ballads to the world, has proved himself a very formidable 
antagonist to Banting. 


Dear Sister Euterpe : How glad I am that the summer is 
over ! Men have no energy for the divine arts while it lasts. 
They wilt in the sun as frail as the helpless convolvulus. My 
rambles have brought to light nothing of much interest, in all 
the long season which has elapsed since my letter to you. Some 
enthusiasts there are indeed, who strive to overcome this human 
weakness, and labor on in spite of the heat. But their efforts 


show the lack of that vigor and power which should mark a 
work of true genius. 

Of such sort is the poem I send you, written by one of my 
own pupils. I wish your cool judgment upon it, as I fear I am 
prejudiced in favor of its author, for I love the boy, he is so 
earnest in his desire to excel in my beloved art of Poetry. You 
will see that he has apparently resolved at the start to keep cool 
by imagining himself among the snows and cutting blasts of 
winter. But like many another human endeavor, his laudable 
design ended, as that expressive phrase of mortals hath it, " in 
smoke," as you will see from the close of the poem. 

With the hope that ere long I shall be able to communicate 
something of real interest to you, and with many warm greet- 
ings, I remain, 

, Your faithful sister, 



One murky November afternoon Signorina Tacchi, the singing- 
mistress, set out on a round to the houses of her different pupils 
to tell them that she proposed to take a holiday on the following 
day, and would therefore be unable to give them their usual 
lesson. It was not the busy time of year; fashionable people 
were shooting pheasants, or seeing them shot ; it was chiefly to 
schools that the Signorina looked for employment during the 
autumn, and as these lay somewhat far apart she had a long walk, 
and was well-nigh tired out when she reached her lodgings at 
Islington, after repeating some score of times her mechanical 
formula, "I was not feeling very well lately, and I have thought 
I would allow myself just one day's rest. I shall remember to 
deduct for ze lesson when I shall have ze honor to send in my 


Pale, patient Signorina Tacchi, whom no one had ever seen out 
of temper, who never scolded, who never complained, who was 
often in pain, and always tired, would scarcely have thought it 
worth while to desist from her labors for four-and-twenty hours 
only because she was feeling a little less strong than usual ; but 
the truth was that November 12 was a day which she had 
observed as sacred during a quarter of a century or more of toil 
and struggle, an anniversary memorable to her, and to her alone; 
for assuredly no one else thinks of the date in connection with 
her, or has done so for many years past. 

The Signorina treated herself to an extra hour of bed the next 
morning, but she did not remain long in her dreary little lodg- 
ings. By eleven o'clock she was on her knees in the Brompton 
Oratory, and before the hour of Vespers she had found her way 
to the Chapel of the Carmelites at Kensington, where the dim 
light, the faint odor of incense, the solemn music and the chant- 
ing of the unseen monks seemed to her to give some foretaste of 
that rest which she now longed for as the chief of all blessings, 
and which, as she well knew, could never come to her in this 
world. Thut she disposed of the brief hours of daylight, and by 
six o'clock was glad enough to reach Islington again, and to sit 
down to the tea and the boiled egg which her landlady, accord- 
ing to custom, had got ready for her. It does not sound a very 
cheerful way of spending a holiday, but then every one has his 
own tastes. 

The curtains were drawn, the fire was blazing; shabby and 
scantily furnished as it was, the little room had something of a 
friendly and homelike aspect at this hour. As soon as the Sig- 
norina had eaten what she wanted — and that did not take long — 
she got up, unlocked an old leather-covered box, took out from 
it certain treasures of her own, and, drawing her chair up to the 
blaze, sat down to dream. The real luxury of her holiday had 
come at last. 

Some thirty years ago, there was, at the corner of the Piazza 
de' Mercanti in Milan, a tiny shop kept by one Tacchi, who 
described himself, upon the sign-board above his door, as a 


jeweler and worker in precious metals, but who was in truth a 
dealer in old gold and silver ornaments, bronzes, carvings, lace, 
and antiquities of all kinds. Wealthy English tourists (we were 
all wealthy in those days, and milordi as a matter of course, and 
enjoyed a consideration among hotel-keepers and their satellites 
of which increased prices and the familiarity that breeds con- 
tempt have long since robbed us) knew the place well, and some 
still living may recollect the eager little dealer, with his shock of 
dishevelled grey hair and his bright black eyes, who was almost 
as fond of displaying his wares as of selling them, and whose 
delight at discovering a genuine cognoscente among his customers 
said more for his honesty than for his shrewdness. Poor old 
Tacchi ! he was not one of those who make fortunes quickly, and 
shoulder their way upwards in the world. Like the rest of his 
countrymen, he dearly loved a bargain, and would chaffer and 
haggle all the sunny morning through, over the price of an in- 
taglio or a bit of Luca della Robbia ware ; but his heart softened 
towards the appreciative and held out against the ignorant, so 
that, whereas the former often obtained the object of their desires 
at considerably less than its proper value, the latter were some- 
times sent empty away, declaring sulkily that Italians were all 
knaves, and that, after all, there was no knowing whether these 
so-called antiquities were genuine or not. This was not business ; 
but what was even worse was that when, as would sometimes 
happen, he was himself taken in, and led into purchasing an 
article which he subsequently discovered to be worthless, this 
foolish old man would by no means try to make good his loss, 
but would toss the clever sham contemptuously into the dark and 
dusty recesses of his shop, and think no more about it. As though 
the mere instinct of self-preservation did not teach us to do unto 
others as they have done unto us, and to pass on Dick's bad half- 
crown to Harry! 

So Signor Tacchi was a poor man, albeit a contented one. Such 
as his business was, it sufficed to clothe and feed both him and his 
pretty bright-eyed daughter, Marietta — Marietta, who was to 
make her own fortune, one of these fine days, by her voice, and 

'Glint Mary's School Ufirtfif 


whom his old friend Busca, the famous master, was patiently 
educating for the stage, refusing all payment, and giving up time 
and pains for the sake of friendship and the pure love of art — as 
a true artist should, thought old Tacchi. Busca, to be sure, was 
to have a share in the spending of Marietta's money when it came 
in, as was but just. The three had settled it all between them 
in many a long twilight talk, counting their chickens before they 
were hatched, and deriving as much innocent pleasure from the 
process as many others have done before and since. 

Marietta, too, was contented — as contented as a girl could be. 
In the tiny fifth story where she dwelt with her father, high 
above the turmoil of the streets, she built her airy castles, and 
worked, and sang, living a life that was without a cloud, unless it 
were the occasional scoldings of Signor Busca, who was a hard 
master, and more given to blame than praise. Weary old 
Signorina Tacchi, dreaming before her fire in the Islington 
lodgings, remembered it all as clearly as she remembered yester- 
day, and saw again the flat roof whither the neighbors used to 
come for cool air and gossip in the evenings, and the fields of 
maize, and mulberry trees, and vines that stretched away beyond 
the walls to the hill country, and the snowy, shadowy Alps in the 
far distance, and the street beneath, with its two parallel lines of 
flag-stones for the wheels of the carriages. Along that street, on 
a cloudy afternoon, she had once seen old Radetzky ride, followed 
by his staff, while the soldiers, drawn up on either side of the 
way, presented arms, and all the city was silent as death, mourn- 
ing behind closed shutters for the black day of Novara. 

Those times were certainly not the most propitious that could 
have been selected for an unknown singer to make her first 
appearance at LaScala; for the Milanese, naturally enough, were 
in the sulks with their Austrian conquerors, and would not hire 
boxes for the season as usual ; while the Austrians, not less 
naturally, were out of temper with the Italians, and disposed to 
spend as little money as might be in the rebellious city. Still, 
Signor Busca was of opinion that talent would force recognition, 
in spite of adverse circumstances, and, as he added, with great 


show of reason, if Marietta was to wait until justice was done and 
everybody had his rights, her first song would be sung in Para- 
dise. Every day, therefore, this prima donna in posse took her 
way to Signor Busca's house in the Contrada della Palla, where 
her instructor, a burly gentleman in dressing-gown and slippers, 
awaited her, and where — happily or unhappily — there were other 
pupils besides herself. 

If any one had asked the singing master whether he considered 
it an altogether wise arrangement that his pretty protegee should 
be thrown daily into the society of so handsome and fascinating a 
young fellow as Francesco Montenara, he might very possibly 
have answered in the negative ; but he would doubtless have pro- 
ceeded to point out that dangers such as this are inevitable in the 
career of a cantatrice ; that his time was fully engaged by pupils 
who paid him highly ; that if he chose to educate a poor girl free 
of charge, she must not expect to have hours devoted to her sole 
instruction; and further, that duets, trios, quartets, and other 
combinations which demand more than one voice are as much a 
part of a public singer's education as solos. Nobody, however, 
did put the question ; and Francesco, the heir to the title and 
estates of the Counts of Montenara, sang tenor to the soprano of 
Marietta, the jeweller's daughter, sometimes even reading from 
the same score with her, without giving rise to any unpleasant 
remarks or suspicions. 

Busca, good man, was too intent upon perfecting the work he 
had taken in hand, to speculate upon any sentimental side-issues: 
he threw himself into it heart and soul, like the short-sighted, 
irascible enthusiast that he was ; and it has already been hinted 
that his mode of teaching did not err on the side of gentleness. 
To the Conte Francesco and other amateurs of that stamp he 
could be civil enough, not thinking it worth while to "farsi 
cattivo sangue," as he said, over the failures of rich folks, who only 
cultivated their voices to amuse themselves ; but a mistake on the 
part of Marietta Tacchi, whose destiny it was to use the gift of 
God in earning bread for herself and reflected glory for her 
friends, was quite another matter, and we may be sure that that 


yonng person did not utter a false note without hearing of it. 
Signor Busca did not mean to bully ; but when his pupil disap- 
pointed him he had a way of shouting at her in his tremendous 
bass voice which was certainly rather alarming ; and the epithets 
which he employed at such times were apt to be chosen with a 
view rather to force than to elegance. It was this propensity of 
his that brought about an unexpected little scene one fine morning. 

" Oh che sciocca ! oh che sciocca !" the professor was bawling) 
as he strode up and down the room, waving his huge arms 
about, while the delinquent gazed at him with wide-opened eyes, 
in which a suspicion of moisture was beginning to show itself. 
He stamped and scolded and raved. till his breath gave out ; and 
then young Montenara, who, as it happened, was the only other 
person present, came forward, and said quite quietly : 

" Excuse me, Signore, but in your excitement you have made 
use of expressions which should never be addressed to a lady. 
Now that you are more calm, you will, I am sure, feel no hesita- 
tion about withdrawing your words, and apologizing for them." 

Busca stared, reddened, looked from one pupil to the other, 
and finally stammered out an apology, which Marietta, alarmed 
and contrite, hastened to cut short. The remainder of the lesson 
passed off peaceably, if a little awkwardly; but when it was 
over, the professor begged for a few words in private with the 
young Count. 

" Signor Conte," said he, as soon as the door had closed be- 
hind Marietta, "you rebuked me just now, rightly enough, I 
dare say ; permit me, on my side, to speak a word of warning to 
you. I am not blind ; and when I see a young man in your rank 
of life making himself the champion of a girl in hers, I know 
what is coming. Signor Conte, it will not do. You must seek 
elsewhere for your amusements. In her father's absence, I am 
responsible for Marietta Tacchi ; and if any harm came to her — " 

" Harm ! " interrupted the other, indignantly ; " you forget 
yourself, Signor Busca. You mean well, perhaps ; but you for- 
get yourself. I have never given you the right to suppose that 
I could act towards Signorina Tacchi or think of her with any- 

8T. MARY'S MUSE. 19 

thing but the profoundest respect. We will not pursue the sub- 
ject any further, if you please. Good morning." And with 
that, Signor Francesco made a low and exceedingly dignified 
bow, and took himself off. 

Busca was reassured. How, indeed, was he to suspect that this 
young aristocrat, whose ancestors had lorded it in Milan for six 
centuries, professed republican principles, if you please, believed 
in the equality of all men, and actually contemplated nothing 
less than a marriage with the low-born Marietta ? But so it was. 
Francesco's father, the old Conte di Montenara, used to roar with 
laughter over his son's philanthropic schemes 1 , which he thought 
the best joke in the world. "Come, Francesco," he would some- 
times say, " I am an old man, and managing a large property is 
very troublesome, and my people cheat me right and left. I am 
half inclined to abdicate. If I transfer the whole of my land to 
you, and retire to live in peace and quietness in the town, as I 
declare I should like to do, will you promise to chop it all up 
into allotments and divide it among the tillers of the soil, as the 
rights of humanity demand? Now, there is a fair offer for you ; 
what do you say to it ?" To which Francesco would gravely 
reply that the times were not yet ripe for such sweeping reforms 
as these. But although the old gentleman could afford to speak 
lightly of theories which were not in the least likely to be ever 
carried into practice, he would have adopted a very different tone 
in treating of a matter so clearly within the range of possibilities 
as a plebian alliance ; and Francesco, being aware of this, took 
very good care not to mention Signorina Tacchi's name in his 
father's presence. Nor, indeed, was he much less reticent to- 
wards the young lady herself. He was over head and ears in 
love; but he would not declare his passion, nor even hint at it, 
being withheld partly by the knowledge that a distant prospect 
of marriage was all that he could offer, and partly by a becoming 
modesty which forced him to confess he had as yet no groifhds 
at all for supposing his sentiments to be reciprocated. 

It need hardly be said, however, that there came a time when 
silence was no longer possible ; and probably Marietta was not 



very much taken by surprise when at last Francesco delivered 
himself of the stupendous announcement, " Marietta, I love you !" 

It was an exquisite evening in the end of May. The last glow 
of sunset was fading out of the western sky ; the bells were ring- 
ing the Ave Maria; the fresh green leaves were whispering 
under a northerly breeze, and a faint odor was rising from the 
flowers in the deserted Giardino Pubblico, whither these two 
foolish people had wandered for their evening walk, and where, 
of course, by the merest chance, they had encountered one 
another. One of them never forgot that peaceful scene to her 
dying day, nor failed to recall every detail of it at will, nor 
could ever smell the scent of lilacs in spring without tears rising 
into her eyes. 

"Francesco mio !" she murmured. And any one may fill up 
the remainder of the interview as his taste and fancy may dictate 
to him. 

Dialogues of this nature, which are so full of beauty and 
novelty to the ears of those who take part in them, are apt to read 
a trifle flat ; and as for the sorrow of true lovers separated by an 
unfortunate disparity of birth or fortune, have we not grieved 
over them in a thousand romances, sustained the while by a com- 
forting conviction that all will assuredly come right in the long 
run, either by means of everybody turning out to be somebody 
else, or by another equally ingenious device ? Only, there are 
some love-tales — a good many, perhaps — which don't end in this 
way ; and these are seldom told, or even remembered, unless it 
be by some sentimental old maid, like our singing-mistress of 
Islington; for it is an instinct of human nature to abhor in- 

Francesco and Marietta, however, as they paced to and fro in 
that May twilight of the year 1849, had no notion of allowing 
their love to perish untimely, or of yielding to the conventional 
obstacles which clearly enough lay before them. They were sure 
of being true to one another — being too young to have learnt that 
in this world there is no such thing as certitude — and, that being 
so, all that seemed requisite was patience. Patience, and also, 



no doubt, a little caution. Francesco insisted strongly upon the 
latter point. His was one of those natures which prefer out- 
flanking difficulties to conquering them ; and a clandestine mar- 
riage, with its inevitable consequences, appeared to him a risk too 
great to be undertaken. They must wait for more propitious 
times, he said, and for the present must keep their attachment a 
profound secret ; and Marietta, though she hated concealments, 
and could not bear the thought of deceiving her father, was fain 
to admit the force of his arguments. All she asked was to be 
permitted to see her lover from time to time ; and it will be 
readily believed that no objections were brought foward in answer 
to that request. 

By means of cunningly devised stratagems the newly betrothed 
pair contrived to meet pretty frequently ; and when they were 
alone together — when they wandered under the stars in the 
Giardino Pubblico, or sat at noontide in one of the shady orchards 
which, in those days, occupied a large part of the space between 
the ramparts and the town, all Marietta's misgivings vanished like 
Alpine mists under the sun. Then she remembered only that she 
was loved — and most devotedly loved, if passionate words were to 
count for anything — by the one who was dearer to her than all 
the world ; the present was perfect bliss, and as regarded the 
future, nothing seemed impossible. But the lovers did not talk 
much of their prospects at such times. The subject was a dis- 
agreeable one, bristling with perplexities and uncertainties, and 
they avoided it, as some people avoid the subject of health, as 
others avoid that of money, and as nearly all avoid that of the 
next world. 

When the spring had passed away and the first thunderstorms 
of summer had broken, the old Conte di Montenara, grumbling 
a little, began to make preparations for leaving the sunny rooms 
of the Palazzo where he dwelt from November to June, and the 
cafe that he loved, and the faded Marchesa to whom he had been 
devoted for a matter of five-and-twenty years — and betaking 
himself to a tumble-down castle upon the southern shore of the 
Lago di Garda, where, from time immemorial, the head of the 


family had been accustomed to pass at least four months of the 
year. A country life was excessively distasteful to him, but he 
probably consoled himself with the reflection that noblesse oblige. 
Less important personages might escape with a month of villeg- 
giatura in the spring and another in the autumn ; but a Conte di 
Montenara could no more consult his own wishes than a reigning 
sovereign, and was equally bound to reside among his faithful 
people. So, one sunny morning, the old gentleman rolled through 
the Porta Orientale in his cumbrous travelling carriage, followed 
by his fourgons, his horses, his valet, his French cook and the rest 
of his train, to the admiration of all who could see him through 
the clouds of dust he raised; and if anybody missed him, it could 
only have been his tradespeople and the mature Marchesa above 
mentioned. The heir-apparent remained at Milan to prosecute 
his musical studies, or to amuse himself in any other manner 
that might seem good to him ; liberty being the unquestioned 
prerogative of heirs-apparent. Then it was that the prudent 
Signor Francesco was to be seen continually, in all sorts of places, 
with a little dark-haired lady by his side. Busca and Tacchi, 
busy bees who never left the hive till evening, did not encounter 
this couple ; but where is there an Italian city in which drones 
do not predominate? — and these, of whom there was no lack in 
Milan, soon knew all about it. Patriotic drones, republican 
drones for the most part, who adored young Montenara for the 
sake of his advanced ideas, they laughed good-naturedly over his 
love affair, and chatted about it a little amongst themselves, but 
kept their own counsel, and were careful not to spoil sport. 
Francesco, with his nose in the air and his five wits gone wool- 
gathering, never heeded them ; nor did Marietta, who had no 
eyes safe for her companion, nor any fear of detection now that 
the formidable Conte was far away, and her father was safe at 
home among his dusty treasures. 

What days they were, those summer days of 1849 ! To wake 
up with the earliest glimmer of morning, when the air was fresh, 
and the lights clear and pearly, and the water-carriers and fruit- 
sellers were beginning to stir in the streets below — to wake, and 


think of all the golden hours to come ; to escape from Signor 
Brusca's darkened rooms in the hot noonday, when all the world 
was taking its siesta, and in some blue shadow of the Duomo to 
meet Francesco and whisper important secrets to him, glancing 
to right and left, the while, in pretended fear of being overheard 
—fear that was only pretended, for the very dogs were asleep ; 
to steal out at evening, beyond the city walls and the sound of the 
church bells, to a certain spot beneath a spreading ilex, and there 
to listen for the thousandth time to vows which somehow always 
sounded fresh— if this were not happiness, what can happiness 
be ? And if five months of such bliss be not a fair allowance, 
why, the world must be a better place to live in than is commonly 
supposed. It was in the month of September that Marietta, 
coming home late one evening, was a good deal startled at being 
met by her father with the announcement, " My child, I am going 
to send you away from me for three weeks !" 

" What for?" she ejaculated faintly. 

"What for?" Why, to give you a sight of green fields and a 
mouthful of fresh air, to be sure. One requires such things 
when one is young. It was only yesterday that I was thinking 
how pale and tired you looked, and wishing that it were possible 
to get you away from these stifling streets for a time ; and this 
evening, just as if the blessed saints had heard me, lo and behold ! 
there comes a letter from my cousin Marco Tacchi — you remem- 
ber Marco, the jeweller of Orta, who spent a few days with us 
last winter, and whom I flatter myself I was able to put in the 
way of a good bargain or two? — a letter from Marco, begging us 
to go and stay with him and his wife until the cool weather. 
Now, that I call a very kind and neighborly offer, and it shows 
that a little attention to others is never thrown away*. For my- 
self, of course, it is impossible to take advantage of it. I can- 
not leave my business, and besides, I am old, and the air of 
Milan does as well for me as any other. But you, Marietta mia, 
who have never seen the mountains, except like clouds in the 
distance, and have no more idea of what the blue water of a lake 
is like than you have of chalets and Alpine roses — what a treat 
this will be for you !" 


" A treat !" echoed poor Marietta in dismay, not knowing how 
to escape from the very thing she had so often sighed for. "But 
Signor Busca will never allow me to interrupt my lessons," she 
added hastily, remembering with joy that she too had a trade 
which could not be neglected. 

" Che, che! Busca is a man of common sense; he knows that 
every one works better after a rest, and that to have a strong 
voice you must have good health. I will speak to him — have no 
fear ! I will speak to him myself." 

And Marietta, not venturing upon further resistance, went up 
to her room, prayed heartily that Signor Busca might prove ob- 
durate, and never slept a wink all the night through. 

Francesco, when he heard the news — as we may be sure he 
did the first thing in the morning — burst out laughing at the do- 
lorous voice in which it was communicated to him. " Why, you 
little goose," he cried, " don't you see that this is a piece of good 
fortune sent to us straight from heaven ? Of course you will go to 
Orta and of course I shall go too ; and we will sit all day together 
in the chestnut woods, and I shall take you out in a boat on the 
lake in the evenings, and there will be nobody to spy upon us, 
and we shall be happier than we have ever been in our lives 
before. What a stroke of luck !" 

After this, Marietta was ready to entreat Signor Busca upon 
her knees to sanction her departure ; and, indeed, she was very 
nearly having to adopt that posture before she carried her 
point. Busca pished and pshawed, vowed the thing was out of 
the question, and refused for a long time to listen to either sup- 
plication or argument; but at length he allowed his objections to 
be overruled, one by one ; and Marietta, upon solemnly prom- 
ising to practice scales and exercises for at least two hours even- 
day during her absence, was permitted to climb into the Sesto 
Calende diligence, for which place Signor Francesco, travelling 
vetturino, had started some hours before. 

The last thirty years, as everybody knows, have wrought a vast 
change in all the cities of Europe. Immense sums of money 
have been spent and great improvements have been effected. 


Street architecture and landscape gardening have taken a fresh 
departure ; sanitary science and typhoid fever have stepped gaily 
forward, hand-in-hand ; Paris and Vienna have been, so to speak, 
rebuilt; while in our beloved capital we are able to point with 
pride to underground railways, Thames Embankments, Albert 
Memorials, steam rollers, tramways, and many other delightful 
evidences of the advance of civilization and art. But the broom 
of Progress, which has swept the busier parts of the world so 
ruthlessly clean, has not as yet penetrated into sundry out-of-the- 
way corners, such as Orta; and if Signorina Tacchi could have 
revisited that quaint little town in the flesh instead of in the 
spirit, she would have found it but slightly altered from what it 
was on the warm September evening when she had entered within 
its walls for the first time, and when her cousin Marco had 
come running out in his shirt-sleeves to welcome her, followed by 
his fat wife and his troop of sun-burnt, black-eyed children. 
The streets are still narrow and dark. From the topmost stories 
of the overhanging houses, opposite neighbors still lean out of 
window and shriek at one another in their nasal Italian voices. 
From time to time a slow procession of priests, in gorgeous vest- 
ments, attended by banners and guttering candles and swinging- 
censers, still wends its way towards the Monte Sacro, while the 
bystanders uncover their heads and devoutly drop upon their 
knees at the sound of the tinkling bell that precedes the Host. 
The children still play in the gutter among the cabbage stalks 
and potato peeling and other odds and ends which are thrown 
out, as a matter of course, from either side of the way, and lie 
there until such time as it shall please the scavenger to come and 
remove them. They are not the same children, nor the same 
cabbage stalks, to be sure, and there is a strange name over the 
little shop where good-natured old Marco, who has gone to his 
rest this many a long day, used to sell ear-rings and pins for the 
hair and what not ; but these are changes which it requires a 
close scrutiny to detect; and in all essentials life in Orta sleeps 
on just as of old. 


There is a southern warmth of coloring, a pleasant southern 
indolence, about some of these Piedmontese towns which con- 
trasts oddly enough with the Alpine scenery that lies so close to 
them. Little Orta, hemmed in between water and mountain, has 
something very like its counterpart on the Eiviera and the Gulf 
of Salerno. Dark-eyed women wash their linen in the lake ; 
bare-legged fishermen lounge before the open doors where dusty 
oleanders stand in tubs ; in the gardens along the shore pome- 
granate and orange, aloe and cactus flourish ; but if you stroll up 
through the Spanish-chestnut woods that clothe the slopes, you 
will soon find yourself among pastures as green as those of 
Switzerland, and an hour or so of gentle walking will lead you 
into a scene of bare rocks, morasses and shaly summits in which 
you may with perfect facility be overtaken by a drifting mist and 
lose yourself. To Marietta, born and bred on the Lombard 
plains, all this was like a realised vision. Later in life she 
looked upon the Bay of Naples by moonlight, and the Alps at 
sunrise, and many other world-famed scenes, but not one of them 
seemed to her to compare with the Lago d'Orta, and in all she 
detected a something wanting — which something, it may be 
plausibly conjectured, was the figure of Francesco in the fore- 

The young Count, wisely deeming it best to avoid needless 
mysteries, went boldly to the jeweller's shop and introduced 
himself as Signor Montenara, a fellow-pupil of Signorina 
Tacchi's, to the unsuspecting couple, by whom he was cordially 
received. That he and Marietta should like to take an occa- 
sional walk together appeared to them only natural ; perhaps 
they may have even fancied that they were greeting a future 
second cousin in the person of this young man, whose renowned 
surname was wholly unknown to them ; but they little suspected 
how frequent those walks were and what words were spoken in 
the course of them. Had any one overheard the words in ques- 
tion, he would not perhaps have been much impressed by their 
novelty or eloquence, nor shall they be set down here. What 
passed between Francesco and Marietta could interest themselves 


alone; and if the latter, even after the lapse of so many years, 
could pass something like a happy hour in recapitulating conver- 
sations out of which the meaning had long since died, let us not 
grudge her so harmless a pleasure, while declining to participate 
in it. 

The little old maid, lying back in her arm-chair, with her eyes 
closed, looks really almost pretty, as her thoughts go back in the 
past. The lines fade out of her careworn, sallow face ; a happy 
smile dawns upon her lips ; there is actually the ghost of a 
dimple in one of her cheeks. She is no longer in hard, dismal, 
matter-of-fact London ; she is back on the shores of the Lago 
d'Orta, and the slant rays of the sinking sun are streaming 
across the mountain-side upon the glassy water and the tiny 
Isola San Giulio, with its cluster of houses and its old church; 
the leaves of the Spanish chestnuts are lightly stirred by the 
evening breeze; a far-away, slumberous hum rises from the town 
below ; and it is Francesco's voice, soft and clear as of old, that 
murmurs, " Marietta mia, time can neve change our love." 

" Will it not ?" cries the girl, seized with a sudden fear, and 
clasping her hands tightly round her lover's arm. " Are you 
sure that it will not? We don't know what may be coming; we 
may be separated for months, perhaps for years. Promise me, 
Francesco, promise me that, whatever happens, you will never 
forget me ?" 

And Francesco, turning his eyes full upon hers, answers 
gravely, " I promise." 

[to be continued.] 




They went through the brazen door of the palace. Around 
a circular hall were sitting many beautiful ladies, old and young, 
eating delicious fruits, while delightful music resounded through 
the air. On the vaulted ceiling were painted palms, flowers and 
foliage, among which climbed and swung figures of children in 
the most graceful positions. According to the tones of the mu- 
sic, the pictures changed and glowed in the most vivid colors ; 
now the green and blue flashed into pure light, then paled ; the 
purple flamed up and the gold gleamed ; then the naked children 
seemed to live among the garlands of flowers, and with their 
ruby-red lips to inspire and respire till one might see the chang- 
ing glimmer of their little white teeth, as well as the sparkle of 
their heavenly blue eyes. 

A brazen stair-case led from this hall into alai'ge subterranean 
apartment. Here were much gold and silver, and precious 
stones of all colors sparkled between. Immense coffers stood 
around the walls, all seemingly filled with treasures. The gold 
was worked into various shapes and shone with a cheerful red. 
Numbers of little dwarfs were busy selecting the pieces and 
placing them in the coffers; others, hunch-backed and bandy- 
legged, with long red noses, were bending to the ground under 
the weight of sacks like those millers use for grain, and panting, 
shook pieces of gold out upon the ground. Then they sprang 
awkwardly right and left, and seized the rolling balls, which 
would run away, and it not seldom happened that they knocked 
each other over in their zeal and fell heavily in a heap upon the 
ground. They made wry faces and looked askance when Marie 
laughed at their gestures and ugliness. Farther on was seated a 
little, old, shrivelled-up man, whom Zerina greeted respectfully, 
but who only acknowledged her greeting by a solemn nod. He 


held a scepter in his hand and wore a crown upon his head ; all 
the other dwarfs seemed to acknowledge him as their lord and 
to be at his beck and call. "What is it now?" said he morosely, 
as the children approached. Marie timidly kept silence, but 
her play-mate replied that they had "only come to look around 
in the room." 

"Always the same childishness!" said the old man, " will idle- 
ness never cease ?" Thereupon he turned again to his employ- 
ment and had the gold pieces weighed and sorted ; some dwarfs 
he sent away, many he scolded angrily. 

"Who is the gentleman?" asked Marie. "Our Gold-king," 
said the little one, and they walked on. 

It seemed that they were once more in the open air, for they 
stood beside a large pond ; but no sun was shining and they saw 
no sky above them. A little skiff received them and Zerina 
rowed skilfully. The passage was quick. When they reached 
the middle of the pond Marie saw that a thousand channels, canals 
and rivulets flowed out in all directions from the little lake. 

" This water at the right," said the little child, " flows under 
our garden ; that is why everything blooms so fresh there ; from 
here you come out into the large river below." Suddenly there 
came from out the canals and from the lake an infinite number 
of children, diving and paddling around ; many wore crowns of 
rushes and water-lilies, others bore branches of red coral, and 
others blew on curved shells ; a merry clamor re-echoed from 
the dark shores ; among the little ones swam lovely women, and 
the children often sprang from one to another and hung with 
kisses upon their necks. All greeted the stranger. In the midst 
of this confusion they passed from the lake into a little stream 
growing ever narrower and narrower. At last the boat stopped. 
Their companions departed and Zerina knocked on the rocks. 
These rolled back like a door and a womanly figure of glowing 
red helped them to land. 

" Is every thing going on gaily here?" asked Zerina. "They 
are busy now," she answered, " and as happy as you could pos- 
sibly see them ; but then the heat is so pleasant." 


They ascended a winding stair-way, and, suddenly, Marie 
perceived that she was in a room which shone so, that on enter- 
ing it her eyes were dazzled by the brightness. The walls were 
covered with purple-red tapestry, which flashed and glittered 
like a web of glowing flame, and when her eyes had become accus- 
tomed to the light Marie saw to her astonishment that living 
figures were dancing up and down in this tapestry, in joyous 
revelry. They were so prettily formed and of such beautiful 
proportions, that one could not imagine any tiling more lovely ; 
their bodies seemed to be of rosy crystal, and you might have 
seen the blood play in their veins. They smiled upon the 
strange child and greeted her with many graceful gestures ; but 
when Marie wished to go nearer to them, Zerina suddenly seized 
and held her with all her might, while she cried : " You will 
burn yourself, little Marie, for all is fire !" 

Marie felt the heat. " Why don't the lovely creatures come 
out here and play with us?" she said. "Just as you live in air," 
answered Zerina, "they must always in fire, and they would pine 
away out here. Only see how they rejoice in the heat, how they 
laugh and scream. They spread the streams of liquid fire on all 
sides of the earth, and only flowers, fruits and vines grow on 
their banks ; the glowing streams flow near the water brooks, 
and these creatures of fire and flame are always busy and happy 
in their work. But it is too hot for you here ; let us go out into 
the garden again." 

Here the scene had changed. The moonlight lay on all the 
flowers, the birds were still, and in the green arbors were sleep- 
ing children clustered in loving groups. But Marie and her 
friend felt no fatigue, and they walked all the warm summer 
night until the morning, conversing on many subjects. 

When day dawned they refreshed themselves with fruit and 
milk, and Marie said, " Let us, for a change, go out once more 
towards the firs and see how things look there." 

" Willingly," said Zerina, " and then you can also see our sen- 
tinels, with whom you will certainly be pleased ; they stand on 
top of the walls between the trees." They went through the 


flower garden, through lovely groves full of nightingales, then 
climbed over hills covered with vines, and finally, after having 
followed, for a long time, the windings of a clear brook, came to 
the fir trees and the heights which enclosed the settlement. 
" How is it," asked Marie, " that in here we have to walk so far, 
while without the extent is so small?" " I do not know why it 
is," answered her friend, " but it is so." They ascended to the 
dark firs and a cold wind blew 7 on them from without, for around 
a fog seemed to lie over the landscape. Above stood strange 
figures, with mealy faces, whose hideous heads were not unlike 
those of white owls. These figures were dressed in shaggy 
woolen mantles with hoods, and they held umbrellas of peculiar 
skins spread out over them ; bat wings protruded strangely from 
their water-proof cloaks, and with these they blew and fanned 
incessantly. " I want to laugh, but I am afraid," said Marie. 
"These are our good, industrious watchmen," said her little 
play-mate, " they stand here and fan, and whoever wishes to ap- 
proach us is seized with anxiety and strange fear; they are 
clothed in that manner because it is now raining and freezing 
outside, and they cannot endure the cold. To us snow and wind 
and cold never come ; and eternal summer and spring reign 
here; though if the sentinels were not relieved from guard over 
there, they would die." 

" But who are you ?" Marie asked, as they again stepped down 
among the fragrance of the flowers, " or do you have no name 
by which you are distinguished?" 

" We are called Elves," said the friendly child, " they speak 
of us sometimes in the world, I have heard." 

A great tumult arose in the meadow. " The beautiful bird 
has come !" cried out all the children, as Marie and Zerina ap- 
proached. Every one was hastening into the hall. They already 
saw how young and old were hurrying over the threshold, all 
shouting for joy, while triumphant music floated out from within. 
When they too entered, they saw that the hall was crowded 
with a multitude of people, and all were looking up at a large 
bird with shining wings slowly flying in large circles within the 
dome. [to be continued.] 






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Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 10th of the month, 
are requested to notify us at once. The Muse will be issued 
monthly during term time, or nine numbers a year, and adver- 
tisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a year's con- 
tract. All matters on business should be addressed to the 
Muse, St. Mary's School, Ealeigh, N. C. 

Dear friends and readers, old and new, we greet you in the 
name of '79 and '80 ! 

Poor Pegasus finds it pretty hard to come into harness again, 
after running at will in summer pastures all the long vacation, 
and we, his riders, have such a fellow-feeling for him, that we 
must begin by commending ourselves to your most kindly con- 

In our wanderings and rambles we have not been unmindful 
of your interests, and now that our dear little Muse needs our 
services, we meekly put on the yoke of obedience and come at 
her bidding to do our best to make her acceptable to you. 


Our faithful Calliope has not forgotten her sisters and their 
work. She sends a poem by one of her protegds which, in our 
friendly opinion, is full of artistic merit. We bespeak for it a 
"review" by some less partial reader, feeling assured that the 
young aspirant for poetic laurels would gladly welcome what- 
ever may help him in his upward flight, even if his wings should 
have to be clipped a little now to make them grow stronger in 
the end. The pen of true genius neither shrinks from the 
burning fire that proves its worth, nor from the rough friction 
that adds lustre to its brilliancy. 

Euterpe's summer has been one long, bright holiday. Far off in 
some land of songs, he captured for us a veritable warbler. So 
sweetly does she trill the lays of " Faderland," that one might 
well believe her home had been " mid groves of the soft Hesperian 
clime." We only hope that her willing pupils may soon catch from 
her something of the witchery of melody and make the hearts of 
the old folks in the parent nest rejoice in the music of their sweet 

Clio, under a divine inspiration that the " Lives of great men " 
are the happiest illustrations of her eternal theme, gives us a 
sketch of her distinguished kinsman, the great painter, Wash- 
ington Allston, thereby reminding us, in the words of America's 
equally great poet, that some of us 

-may make our lives sublime, 

And departing, leave behind us 
Footprints in the sands of time." 

We " lesser lights " have contributed our mites and done what 
we could, amid the unavoidable settling down of the opening 
weeks of the session, to make these pages in some degree worthy 
of your acceptance and approval. 

Our reunion has been very bright and happy, though shadowed 
by the inevitable absence of familiar and loved faces. We do 
indeed sadly miss the dear associates of past years, but among 
the new friends gathered around us we already discern some who 
will worthily fill their vacant places. 

At first it was curious to note the different expressions on the 
faces of the old girls and the new comers. The former were so 


glad with the joy of meeting old friends — the latter so sad and 
homesick. Now, however, all alike are bright, and constant 
employment leaves no time for unavailing regret. 

Only a skeleton of the old Pierian remains ; but over its " dry 
bones" will flow such waves of fresh life and thought as will 
soon restore its wonted vigor. 

We find our old haunts as thoroughly renovated as we could 
wish. The spirit of progress is surely in league with St. Mary's, 
and the march of improvement never passes by without coming 
to a halt and leaving behind many a trace of its " occupation." 
This year it has given us the wondrous telephone. Our friends, 
however distant, are brought into neighborly contact, and we 
can make our visits and do our shopping without trouble, fatigue 
or loss of time. Electric bells are cheerily jingling in every 
class and practice-room at fixed hours. The parlor rejoices in a 
pretty, new outfit. The "long room" has been converted into 
the snuggiest of libraries, where Pierian meetings and literary 
societies find a congenial atmosphere, and where many a dis- 
stracted composition- writer flies for quiet thought and research. 
The school-room, under its improved arrangement, has put on 
an air of increased comfort and dignity. There the little organ, 
endeared by so many tender memories to every St. Mary's heart, 
finds a fitting resting-place, now that in its old age it has to make 
way for its grand successor which is daily expected from Boston. 
For the proper accommodation of this noble instrument, a tran- 
sept has been built which adds greatly to the architectural beauty 
of the Chapel. 

The Art Department is making vigorous use of the beautiful 
models recently added to its store, and the class, under the ener- 
getic lead of Miss Norwood, varies its work by sketching from 
nature with all the enthusiasm of novelty. 

From "Senior A" to "Kindergarten," all seem possessed by a 
determination to make good use of the superior advantages 
afforded them. We trust that the bright hopes with which we 
hail the session of '79 may be the prophecy of its history. 



How glad we all were to come back to school ! Though we are 
such little children, we have not forgotten all we learnt last year 
and we are learning something new, too, all the time. We have 
such fun pasting pictures, and hunting for "specimens." And 
we are learning French too. Last session we used to print our 
words, but now we are learning to make real " writing " letters. 

Before long we hope to write a " sure enough" letter, but we 
cannot say any more now, so we tell our friends of the Muse 
good-bye until next month. 

From the Members of the Kindergarten Class. 


At the late Paris Exposition there was an exhibit of work from 
the art schools of the United States, and our Southern girls will 
be interested to know that the highest prize was awarded to a 
drawing sent from a young ladies' school at Rome, Georgia. 
Think of that, art students of St. Mary's ! 

Art in Assyria Eight Centuries Ago. — The recent inves- 
tigations on the site of ancient Nineveh have been chiefly directed 
to insure historical results. The art results, however, which have 
been obtained by the way, are of singular interest. 

Perhaps the most novel and striking of the art objects, dis- 
covered by Mr. George Smith in his last expedition, was a throne 
of rock crystal. This throne, which was found in separate por- 
tions, contained two seats. The arms were of mushroom form, 
and the feet in front resembled those of an enormous lion. The 
place of discovery was the ruin of a palace built by Sennacherib, 
and this fact seems to fix the date of the work at between twenty- 
five hundred and twenty-six hundred years ago. Fragments of 
crystal vases and cups, bearing the name of Sennacherib, were 
also found in the same spot. A lamp feeder in terra-cotta was of 

36 » ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the unusual form of a sitting bird, the spout for feeding the lamp 
being in the breast. A bone spoon, with heart-shaped bowl, and a 
brass fork of the same date, show that the Assyrians in the days 
of Sennacherib had attained a degree of refinement which was 
not found in Europe from the fall of the Roman Empire to the 

Ancient Stone Crosses of England. — The most beautiful 
of all the monumental crosses of England are those erected by 
Edward I. to the memory of his beloved Queen, Eleanora of 
Castile. Eleanora died in the autumn of 1290, at Herdeby, near 
Grantham, in Lincolnshire, and her body was borne in solemn 
procession to London to be interred there. At the end of each 
day's journey the royal bier rested in the central part of some 
great town, and at every one of these resting places the sorrowing 
King vowed to erect a cross to the memory of the " Chere Reine," 
as he lovingly styled his lost wife. 

Thirteen of these splendid monuments of his affection once 
existed, and those which remain are models of architectural 
beauty. Of those which have vanished from the earth, Charing 
Cross, London, has left, in its name, the most enduring memorial 
of its history. 

The name, derived from " Chere Heine," signifies the " dear 
Queen's cross," and whenever it is mentioned an unconscious 
tribute is paid to the virtues of EJeanora and the love of her 
heroic lord. 

Our Latin students can perhaps give us the translation of the 
following: " Quis crudus tibi lectus albusque speratus." 

My first is seen among the Adirondack^ during the summer. 
My second is the bete noir of some of St. Mary's girls. 
My whole is the name of a Scottish clan. 

We beg leave to remind Major Bingham of his promise to 
send to the Muse a copy of his speech before the Normal 
School at Chapel Hill, last summer. 


The many friends of dear "Miss Stella" will be glad to hear 
that she is at last free from the doctor's hands and has returned 
to the old home she lo.ves so well. 

The Muse is honored by many " exchanges." Among these 
we especially honor the Madisonian, of Madison, Ga., as its lit- 
erary department is under the editorial management of one of 
our own sex — Miss Anna C. M. Blackburn. 

Our Missionary Society is re-organized, with Mrs. Iredell as 
President. The successful pecuniary results of past years lead 
us to hope for a continuance of the same, and to this end orders 
for crochet and other fancy work are solicited. 

We must thank a correspondent of that excellent paper, the 
Church Messenger, for a capital article on Christian Education, 
in which St. Mary's receives (we think) well deserved commen- 
dation for what she has done and is still doing in that line. 

It may not be generally known that the prize offered by the 
New York World for the greatest number of answers to its 
" Summer Questions " was awarded to Miss Kate Devereux, a 
resident of Raleigh and, we are proud to say, an ex-St. Maryite. 

A pleasant feature of this session is to be a series of " Friday 
Evening Lectures " on various subjects — Literary, Artistic, Sci- 
entific, &c. The " season " was inaugurated by a paper on " The 
Study of Art," read by Miss Norwood, and enjoyed by the as- 
sembled school. 

The "guest list" for September records only the name of 
Rev. Mr. Oertel, who came at our invitation to exercise one of 
his numerous talents in our behalf. As ecclesiastical architect 
of the Diocese, we called him to design the organ transept in the 
Chapel, and most skilfully he has done his work. 

We learn that the Bingham School is more successful than 
ever before. There are 132 names on its roll for the current 
session, which is 45 per cent, ahead of the last, and 20 per cent. 


ahead of any previous session. The catalogue for 1879 will con- 
tain more than 160 names. The last addition to the school is 
from Brazil, and Asia has been represented for the last three 

Scenes in Class-room : 

Latin Teacher — " Miss E., can you tell me what ' Taurus ' is ?" 
Miss E., (brightening visibly) — "Oh yes, ma'm ; taurus — a 

tower !" 

The homesickness of some of our new scholars is so pathetic 
and uncontrollable that it appears even in their Latin Exer- 
cises — for instance, "The master's field" was rendered by one, 
"In miser am domine /" 

" Oh, Miss G., your brothers are certainly handsome, but you 
are not a bit like either one." 


Mme. Nilson is in Sweden. 

Herr Von Biilow is at Bonn, with his mother. 

Mdme. Gerster sailed for America October 2d. 

" Measure your mind's greatness by the shadow it casts." 

Mme. Camilla Urso has left San Francisco for Australia. 

A new musical combination is called " The Bric-a-brac 

Miss Clara Louise Kellogg and her mother have gone to Aix- 

Mrs. H. F. Knowles will sing at the Worcester, Mass., 

Mr. Carl Wolfsohn, of Chicago, has been passing his vacation 
at Patterson, N. J. 

Verdi is at Genoa, and according to his own statement, will 
write no more operas. 


M. Gounod has sued the director of the Imperial Opera at 
Vienna for royalty upon " Faust." 

Mme. Adelina Patti is thirty-six years of age; Mme. Car- 
lotta Patti, thirty-nine ; Mme. Nilsson, thirty-two. 

Herr Rubinstein is to produce his "Nero" in Hamburg, be- 
fore November 15th, or forfeit twelve hundred dollars. 

It is more than probable that some of Mr. John K. Paine's 
compositions will be performed in London in October. 

The Bohemian composer, F. H. Chwatal, died recently. His 
piano-forte school at Magdebourg will probably be continued. 

Miss Lizzie B. Ross, a native of Henderson, Ky., who four 
years ago went to Naples to finish her musical education, has 
appeared in that city in Linda. 

My first is an accompaniment of Ague. 

My second is a weapon of war. 

My whole is the name of England's greatest poet. 

The Origin of the Saying, "There's where the 
Shoe Pinches." — Plutarch relates the story of a Roman being 
divorced from his wife. " This person being highly blamed by 
his friends, who demanded, ' Was she not chaste ? Was she not 
fair ? ' holding out his shoe, asked them whether it were not 
new and well made. 'Yet,' added he, 'none of you can tell 
where the shoe pinches me.' " 

" Pas de lieu Rhone que nous." 

The quarrel about the London Opera Comique and "Pinafore" 
promises to show in court that " Pinafore " was at first a failure, 
the receipts dwindling to $230 a night; that it was kept on and 
forced before the public in the interest of a music-publishing 
firm, and that through an unaccountable freak the receipts so in- 
creased as to show a profit of from $2,500 to $3,000 a week, 
whereas at one time the loss was $1,000 a week on this wonder- 
ful " Pinafore." 

Established in 1793. 

Is PRE-EMINENT among Southern Boarding Schools 
for Boys in AGE, NUMBEKS, AEEA of patronage, and (the 
Superintendent feels safe in adding) in the character and results 
of its combined civil and military DISCIPLINE. 

The catalogue for 1879 will contain more than 160 names, 
from twelve States of the Union, and South America and Asia 
are also represented. 

Board and Tuition, $110 per Session of 20 Weeks. 

For catalogue giving full particulars, address 

Maj. M. BINGHAM, Sup't. 



Fine Teas, Wines and Liquors, Ales and Porters, and 
Groceries and Provisions generally. 

Fayetteville Street, ttaleiyh, N. C. 


On the Most Reasonable Terms. 

New Pianos, fully warranted, $225 and upwards. 

Specifications furnished for Church and Chapel Organs of any 

All kinds of Sheet Music furnished wholesale and retail. 

Parties wishing anything in the musical line should write for 
our terms before purchasing. 


Department of Music, 




M, Square Si !# Piano Fortes d Dps, 

Factory, cor. St. Peter and sterrett sts. fareroois, 373 f , Baltimore St. 

Opp. the Eutaw House.. 

These instruments have been prominently before the 
Public for the last fifteen years. Their durability, 
their workmanship and their general excel- 
lence in all respects, have gained for them an unpur- 
chased pre-eminence. Constructed of the Very 
Best Material. Every Instrument fully 
guaranteed for five years. 

For illustrated catalogue and references apply to above address. 

St. Mary's School, 


The Department of Music offers great inducements to voting 
ladies wishing to obtain a thorough knowledge of music in all 
its branches. In order to meet the requirements of advanced 
organ instruction, a tine new PIPE ORGAN of TWO MANUELS and 
TWENTY STOPS is being placed in the Chapel, and the only 
Pedal Piano South of New York is at the service of organ stu- 
dents. A vocalist from the Royal Leipzig Conservatory has been 
added to the corps of teachers, and no pains or expense will be 
spared to make this the first musical school in the South. 

Persons outside of the School can make arrangements for 
either Piano, Organ or Vocal Lessons by applying to the Director 
of Music. . 





No. 19 Fayetteville Street, 






•.{Funded 1842) 


The Rt. Rev. Thos. Atkinson, D. D. ; LL. I). 


The Rt. Rev. Theo. B. Lyman, D. D. 





The 75th Term begun Thursday, September 11th, 

Efficient teachers in every department. 

The finest situation in the South. Large, commo- 
dious buildings. Every advantage offered for Men- 
tal, Moral and Physical Education. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars, 
address the Rector. 

% ftmtHjftj ftagariitf, 



Vol. II. RALEIGH, N. C, JANUARY, 1880. No. 5. 



A Pastoral op Parnassus 1 

*The Adventure of a Butterfly — Blanche Griffin 3 

*To Little Mamie — Poem — H. I. 4 

*Blind — Translated from the German of Heyse by Miss Gabrielle 

deRosset 6 

The Old Maid's Holiday — Concluded 10 

Views from a German Spion — Bret- Harte 15 

Kindergarten, 25 

Editorial, Prize Questions, &c 26 

Original articles written for the Muse are marked thus.* 








Near Warrenton, Fauquier County, Va. 

40 Miles from Washington, 

Kecommended for Location, Health, Morality, Scholarship and 

A first-class Virginia School, in which is taught in addition to 
the Classics', Elementary Law and Medicine. 

The Military does not interfere with School duties, and 
the officers are commissioned by the Governor of the State. 
No. of Students 117. No. Teachers 7. 

BOARD AND TUITION (Half-Session), $95.00. 

Address, for catalogue, 

Maj. A. Gr. SMITH, Supt., 

Bethel Academy P. o., Fauquier County, Va. 




French, English and German Perfumery, 




Sole Agent for the famous EDITION PETERS, (Leipzic) 
AUGENER& CO., (London) and BREITKOPF& HAERTEL (Leipzic). 

Catalogues sent free on application. 

Besides these and my own renowned publications, I have a 
COMPLETE STOCK of all European publications and receive by 
weekly importations all the new Works of celebrated Authors. 

Music sent for selection to Teachers and Seminaries on the 
most liberal terms. 

St. Mary's Muse. 

Vol. IT. RALEIGH, N. C, JANUARY, 1880. No. 5. 



At morning-dawn I left my sheep 
And sought the mountains all aglow ; 
The shepherds said: 'The way is steep, 
Ah, do not go." 


I left my pastures fresh with rain, 
My water-courses edged with bloom, 
A larger breathing-space to gain 
And singing-room. 


Then of a reed I wrought a flute, 
And as I went I sang and played. 
But though I sang, my heart was mute 
And sore afraid. 


Because the great hill and the sky . 
Were full of glooms and glorious 
Beyond all light or dark that I 
Had visioned thus. 



My sense grew pure through love and fear ; 
I saw God burn in every briar. 
Then sudden voices, strong and clear, 
Flashed up like fire. 


And turning where that music rang 
I saw aloft, half out of sight, 
The watching poets; and they sang 
Through day and night. 


And some with faces to the morn 
Sang heralding the coming ray ; 
Some sang of by -gone Muse or Norn, 
Some of to-day. 


And some in quaintly-ordered speech 
Sang of the south and years gone past ; 
All sang of Love, and sweetly each : 
No first nor last. 


And very sweet — ah, sweet indeed — 
Their voices sounded high and deep. 
I blew an echo on my reed 
As one asleep. 


I heard. My heart grew cold with dread, 
For what would happen if they heard ? 
Would not these nightingales strike dead 
Their mocking-bird ? 



Then from the mountain's steepest crown, 
Where white cliffs pierce the tender grass, 
I saw an arm reach slowly down, 
Heard some word pass. 


' The end is come,' I thought, ' and still 
I am more happy, come what may, 
To die upon Parnassus-hill 
Than live away.' 


Then hands and faces luminous 

And holy voices grew one flame — 

' Come up, poor singer, and sing with us !' 

They sang, I came. 


So ended all my wandering ; 
This is the end, and this is sweet, — 
All night, all day, to listen and sing 
Below their feet. 


One balmy day in May I was sitting by the window reading, 
when, glancing outdoors as I turned a page, I beheld a little 
butterfly flitting about among the flowers. It was a most beauti- 
ful little creature; its body was brown, and its wings yellow, 
dotted with black, and it seemed to be very happy, lighting first 
on one flower and then on another ; but I noticed that it seemed 
to have a preference for the roses. Now and then it would chance 


to light on a hyacinth, or a pink, or on some other flower equally 
sweet, but it always returned to the rose. 

Xow it happened, with this joyous little creature, as it does 
very often with persons who are in the midst of enjoj'ment, a 
sudden stop was put to its happiness. The bright brown eyes of 
a very sportive setter had been watching it intently for sometime. 
The little butterfly continued to flit hither and thither; the dog 
crept softly nearer ; the devoted victim flew close to the ground ; 
Brown -eyes gave a spring and - did not catch it. And now a 
singular chase began, the dog running after and snapping at the 
butterfly, the latter fluttering tantalizingly just out of reach. At 
last, Juno ( the setter) made a desperate spring and the beautiful 
insect disappeared. Ah, how provoked I was ! I was about to go 
into the garden and give Juno a sound whipping, when, looking 
out to ascertain her whereabouts, I found that she had gently 
fallen down in the middle of the path, and was preparing to 
amuse herself with the poor little butterfly which she held in her 
tight-closed mouth. But as Juno opened her jaws and raised a 
paw to take it, behold ! the butterfly suddenly darted out, un- 
injured, and quickly disappeared, leaving the dog sitting gazing 
after it in utter stupefaction. I must confess I was no less sur- 
prised, and my pleasure was at least equal to Juno's disap- 


Our little Mamie, darling child, 

Is a charming little elf! 
She is just as lovely as she can be, 

And like nobody but herself. 
She laughs and sings from morn till night, 

And loves to laugh and play ; 
But she's not a baby, no indeed, 

For she's two years old to-day ! 


Her eyes are blue as violets sweet, 

Or the blue-bell's darker hue, 
And they sparkle and glow with sunny light, 

Like drops of morning dew. 
Her cheeks are roses freshly blown, 

Her mouth is a rose-bed red, 
And the glory of happiness and health 

All over her face is shed. 

What shall I say of her beautiful hair ? 

Its color we cannot discover, 
For tho' in the shade we think it is brown, 

In the light it is gold all over. 
It ripples and curls on her shapely head, 

And falls on her forehead fair ; 
We would not give for the purest gold 

One curl of this shining hair. 

Ah ! she is a beauty, our Mamie dear, 

And she's good as she's pretty, too, 
For she does not pout, and fret, and scream, 

As naughty children do. 
Her heart is loving, and tender, and true, 

She's sweet as a rose in May ; 
All blessings attend her, this dear little girl, 

Who is two years old to-day ! 





In an open window which looked upon a little flower-gardei^ 
stood the blind daughter of the village clerk, and drank in the 
cool air that played refreshingly over her hot cheeks. The deli- 
cate, half-grown figure trembled, the cold hands lay clasped on 
the window-sill. The sun was set, and the night flowers were 
beginning to give forth their fragrance. Within the room was 
seated a blind boy at the old spinet, playing fitful melodies. He 
might have seen some fifteen years, and was about a twelve-month 
older than the girl. To have watched him as he now raised his 
large, well-opened eyes, now bent his head toward the window, 
you would scarcely have suspected his affliction, so unconstrained, 
nay, so impetuous — were all his movements. Suddenly he broke 
off in the middle of a hymn, into which he had been introducing 
variations to suit his fancy. 

"You sighed, Marlina," said he turning his face toward her. 

" Not I, Clement ! why should I sigh ? I only caught my 
breath when the wind blew in with such a strong gust." 

" You sighed, nevertheless. Do you think I cannot hear when 
I am playing ? and I can feel even here that you are trembling." 

"Yes, it has turned cold." 

" You cannot deceive me. If you were cold, you would not 
stay at the window. But I know why you sigh and tremble. 
Because the doctor is coming to-morrow to stick his needles in 
our eyes ; that is why you tremble. But he says it will be soon 
over, and that it will only be like the sting of a mosquito. 
Besides, have you not always been patient ! and when I was little 
if I cried because something hurt me, did not my mother always 
hold you up to me as an example, though you were only a girl? 


And now you lose all courage, and think not of the happiness 
which we can hope for hereafter." 

She shook her head and answered, " How can you think I am 
afraid of a little pain ? But I am oppressed with stupid childish 
fancies, which I cannot shake off. Since the day when the 
strange doctor whom the Baron sent for came here from the castle 
to see your father, and your mother called us out of the garden, 
since then, some weight is upon me that will not leave me. You 
were so carried away with joy, that you perceived nothing. But 
when your father began to pray, and said, ' Thank God for this 
great goodness,' my heart was silent and would not pray. I 
asked myself for what I should be thankful, and found no 

So she spoke in a calm, collected voice. The boy again struck 
a few soft chords. Through the husky, buzzing tones, peculiar 
to these old instruments, sounded the distant song of the home- 
faring harvesters, a contrast like that of a full, bright, strong ex- 
istence, with the dream-life of these blind children. And appa- 
rently the boy perceived it. He sprung up, walked to the win- 
dow, with an assured step, (for he knew the room and all its 
furniture) and throwing back his beautiful blond's curies, he 
said, " I wonder at you, Marlina. Our parents and every one in 
the village wish us happiness. Will it not be happiness ? Until 
it was promised me I did not ask much about it. We are blind, 
they say. I never have understood what we lacked. When we 
have sat in the grove, and heard passers-by say, ' Poor children !' 
I have resented it, and thought, ' Why should they pity us ?' 
But that we were not like other people, I kown well. They often 
spoke of things I did not understand, which must yet be very 
lovely. Now that we too shall know, curiosity will not let me 
alove day or night." 

" I was happy enough as I was," said Marlina sorrowfully. " I 
was so merry, and would have been so merry all my life long. 
Now all will be changed. Have you not heard people complain 
that the world is full of sorrow and care ? And had we any 
care ?" 


" Because we did not know the world, and I must know it at any 
price. I was willing for a time to drowse and idle my time with 
you ; but not forever, and I want no odds from those who are in 
the struggle and strain of life. Many a time when father has 
been teaching us history, or telling us of heroes and heroic deeds, 
I have asked if such and such an one were blind. But all who 
had done anything worth doing could see. These thoughts have 
often tortured me for days together. Then, if I could return to 
my music, or play the organ in your father's stead, I forgot my 
trouble. But it came again, and I thought, 'Am I always to play 
the organ ? to plod up and down this petty village, known by 
none beyond its limits, forgotten so soon as my body shall lie in 
the grave?' But since the doctor has been at the castle, I have 
encouraged the hope that I shall one day be a man. And then I 
will go out into the world, and wherever it pleases me, nor need 
to consult a soul." 

" Not even me, Clement ?" 

She said it neither complainingly or reproachfully, but the boy 
replied vehemently : "Hush, Marlina! do not say such stuff; I 
cannot bear it ! Do you think that I would leave you at home by 
yourself and sneak away into freedom ? Do you believe I would 
do that?" 

" I know well how it will be. When the boys in the village go 
to the city, or on their travels, no one goes with them, not even 
their own sisters. And even here, before they are grown up, the 
boys will run away from the girls and go into the woods with their 
comrades; and they tease the girls wherever they meet them. 
Till now they have let you stay with me, and we have played and 
studied together. You were blind like me ; what had you in 
common with other boys? But if you could see, and liked to 
stay at home with me, they would laugh at you, as they do at 
every one who does not go with them. And then — then you will 
go away for a long time, and I cannot do without } r ou." 

She brought out these last words with difficulty ; then her feel- 
ings overcame her and she sobbed aloud. Clement drew her close 
to him, stroked her cheek, and said imperiously : " You shall not 


cry. I will never, never go away from you. I will stay blind 
first, and let everything else go. I will not go away from you if 
it makes you cry. Come, be quiet, be happy. You must not 
excite yourself, the doctor said, because it is not good for your 
eyes. Bear, dear Marlina !" 

He held her tightly in his arms, and kissed her for the first 
time. From the door of the parsonage near by came his mother's 
voice calling him. He led the weeping girl to a couch near the 
wall, seated her and went hastily out. 

Some time after, a worthy pair came down from the castle; the 
parson, a tall, powerful figure, with all the strength and majesty 
of an Apostle, and the clerk, a plain man of humble demeanor, 
his hair already sprinkled with white. They had both been in- 
vited by the Baron to pass the afternoon with him and the 
physician, who, at his request, had come from the city to examine 
the eyes of the two children and perform an operation upon 
them. Now he had repeatedly assured the overjoyed fathers of 
his belief in the possibility of a complete cure, and asked them 
to be ready for him on the following day. To the mother fell 
the task of preparing everything that was necessary at the par- 
sonage ; for they could not separate children on the day that was 
to bring to both the light of which both had so long been de- 

The houses of the two men lay on opposite sides of the street. 
As they stood between them, the parson shook the hand of his 
old friend and said, with glistening eyes, " God be with us and 
them!" Then they separated. The clerk entered his house; 
there all was quiet : the maid was in the garden. He went into 
his room, and was thankful for the stillness, that he might be 
alone with his God. But as he stepped across the threshold, he 
was horror-struck. His child had sprung up from the couch, 
hastily pressing her handkerchief to her eyes, her breast heaving 
violently as in convulsion, her cheeks and lips ashy pale. He 
spoke to her, begging her to be composed, and asked her earnestly, 
" What has happened ?" She answered only with tears, whose 
cause she herself did not understand. 




This missive she sealed, directed to His Excellency the Signor 
Conte Francesco Montenara, Palazzo Montenara, and dropped 
into the letter-box before nightfall. 

Three days— six days passed without a reply, but that was not 
surprising, for the letter would, of course, have to be forwarded, 
and Francesco might be far away. On the seventh, however, the 
sound of a man's heavy footstep was heard outside Marietta's 
door, and presently some one knocked gently. She had hardly 
the strength to murmur, ' Come in.' 

Alas ! it was not Francesco, but his father, who entered, and 
stood silently before her. Marietta gave a faint cry, and covered 
her face with her hands. 

But the old gentleman was not angry, it appeared. 'So you 
have lost your voice !' he said quite gently. He was standing 
on the threshold in an almost deferential posture, and looked by 
no means a formidable person in his white linen suit and his 
loose Russia-leather shoes. His eyes were wandering over the 
shabby little room and its meagre furniture with a comical ex- 
pression of commiseration. ' Eh, poverina !' he ejaculated. 

'How did you find out — — ?' gasped Marietta, unable to finish 
her sentence. 

'I — I opened your letter,' the old gentleman answered, look- 
ing very much ashamed of himself. ' It sounds a most dishon- 
ourable thing to have done, but I give your my word that I have 
no idea — I had no conception. The truth is that, my son being 
away from home, I am in the habit of breaking the seals of a 
great number of envelopes addressed to him ; there are so many 
advertisements and begging-letters, and so forth, you understand, 
which are not worth the postage. But of course, if I had guessed 
what was in this one — though, after all, it is just as well." 

The Signore Conte seemed singularly troubled and embar- 
rassed, Marietta, who, on his entrance, had supposed herself to 


be confronted by a justly increased tyrant, knew not what to 
make of this queer old man, who looked more ready to weep 
than to denounce, and could only stare at him in mute bewilder- 
ment. Presently he sank down into a chair, and after wiping 
his forehead with his pocket-handkerchief, and sighing loudly 
several times, broke out into a plaintive soliloquy. 

' Santo Padre ! what have I done that it should fall upon me 
to inflict pain upon the innocent ? Was it I who made the 
world, and ordained that there should be differences of rank, 
and that every man should mate with one of his own breed ? If 
a young booby choose to amuse himself with fantastic republican 
notions, which I know he would throw off as easily as the whoop- 
ing-cough and the measles, was that any fault of mine? And 
now, at my age, when I ask for nothing but rest and peace, I 
have to come all the way from Peschiera, on the hottest day of 
the year, in order to inflict one more blow upon an unhappy 
child who has done no wrong, and who has already lost nearly 
everything. There is a great deal of injustice in this world— a 
great deal of injustice,' concluded the Conte pathetically, mean- 
ing probably to imply that both his hearer and himself were 
hardly used. 

' Signor,' exclaimed Marietta, clasping her hands, ' let me see 
him once more ! You speak kindly — I don't know why — -I 
thought you would be very angry. But it is all over now ; I 
know quite well that I can never be his wife ; it was impossible 
from the first, and I ought to have seen that it was. Only let 
me see him once more — just once more — to say good-bye. It is 
not a great deal to ask.' 

The Conte shifted uneasily in his chair. ' And so Francesco 
was to have married you,' he murmured, after a pause ; ' and 
you were to have supported him upon your earnings, and after 
a time you were to have come home and captivated the silly old 
father's heart by your beauty, and he was to have given you his 
blessing, and everything was to have ended well. Ah, my dear 
child, one sees these stories acted upon the stage, and sometimes, 
if the player be a good one, they are pretty enough ; but in real 


life, believe me, nothing of that kind takes place. In real life 
every man does the best he can for himself; and those who steal 
their neighbors' coats are sent to prison, instead of having cloaks 
offered to them into the bargain ; and rich men feast, and beg- 
gars starve, and republicans are chained up, and counts marry 
countesses !" 

'Is — is your son going to marry a countess?" asked Marietta 
in a low voice. 

' What is the use of concealing it from you ? He is married 
already !' There was a long silence. A sleepy undercurrent of 
sound — the rumbling of wheels, the indistinct murmur of voices, 
and the slow clanging of a distant bell, rose from the city below. 
The Conte, who had sedulously examined his yellow shoes, 
glanced furitively up, at last, at his champion. She was lying 
back in her chair, pale indeed, yet scarcely paler than she had 
been from the outset, and her face showed little sign of other 

Meeting his eyes, she spoke ; and there was only a faint tremor 
in her voice. ' When was it signore ?' 

' About ten days ago. He is married to a Sicilian lady of 
good family. The match was arranged long ago, though I sup- 
pose he knew nothing about it till he arrived at Palermo. It 
was I who sent him there, thinking it was time the affair was 
concluded ; and if you will believe me, it was as much for your 
sake as his that I packed him off in such a hurry. It was easy 
enough to see that he was desperately in love with you, and I 
could not suppose that his intentions were honourable— you do 
not understand these things, and it is needless to talk about 
them — and I had taken a fancy to you ever since that first night 
when you appeared in Lucia. I did not choose that you should 
come to harm through any son of mine; and so I sent him about 
his business. I don't say, mind you, that I should have acted 
differently if I had known the true state of the case ; but that 
was how it happened. And now, signorina, what shall I say ? 
The thing you wished for, I could not give you ; but what I can 
do, I will do. I am rich ; I have influence with all classes of 
society ; and if ' 


But the remainder of the Conte di Montenara's offer remained 
unspoken, for Marietta had fainted dead away. 

Such was the story of Signorina Tacchi's life, as she recalled 
it thirty years afterwards. It ended — or rather, it did not quite 
reach that point ; for on a holiday one would fain keep to happy 
reminiscences. In all these toilsome, colourless years that had 
followed, where was there a single day worth the remembering? 
Many people whose whole lives have been darkened by disap- 
pointment can yet look back, when their journey's end is draw- 
ing near, upon this or that task accomplished, and say, with sober 
satisfaction, ' I have not lived altogether in vain ;' but poor Sig- 
norina Tacchi could only have said, ' I have lived.' It is true 
that at certain times this had been in itself an achievement ; but 
there is little comfort in the memory of having been nearly, 
though not quite, reduced to starvation. The old Conte di Mon- 
tenara, who appears to have been a soft-hearted old fellow, would 
have provided for her, if she would have allowed him ; but she 
was proud, and chose to earn her own bread. So Busca helped 
her to establish a small connection as singing-mistress in Flor- 
ence ; and thence, after some years, she shifted her quarters to 
Naples and elsewhere, sometimes making enough to live in com- 
parative comfort, sometimes contriving with difficulty to keep 
body and soul together. She was a painstaking and most patient 
teacher ; but, whether because she had not the requisite knack 
or because she lacked enthusiasm, she never became a successful 
one ; and at fifty years of age she was living in lodgings at Isling- 
ton and instructing young ladies in Kensington and Tyburnia at 
the rate of five shillings an hour, or seven-and-six-pence where 
two or three of a family share her services. Of such an existence 
what can be said, save, by way of consolation, that it cannot last 
for ever ? Probably the very happiest day that had fallen to 
Signorina Tacchi's lot since July, 1850, was that on which her 
doctor, with some circumlocution and a good deal of grave pity 
in his voice, had given her to understand that she had organic 
disease of the heart. From that moment she took fresh courage, 
seeing land before her, and being relieved of that worst of all 
spectres, the dread of a helpless and peniless old age. 


And with all due submission to Dante, there are worse aggra- 
vations of present misery than memories of a happier past. 
Surely, when all else fails, it is something to have joyous recollec- 
tions, and a holiday in which to indulge them. Such, at all 
events, would have been the verdict of Marietta, who perhaps 
was not cast in the same mould as Francesca da Rimini. She 
always believed that her lover would have been true to her if 
her silence had not unhappily caused him to fancy her false to 
him ; and as what might have been is a subject upon which every 
one is free to form his own opinion, Francesco may be allowed 
the benefit of the doubt. At first she used to comfort herself 
with the thought that Francesco's heart still belonged to her, and 
that, though they could not be together in this life, they might 
be reunited in some future one ; but as time went on, and the 
plan of the world, with its remorseless logic and irresistible law 
of change, became clearer to her, this hope faded away little by 
little, and if she longed for death, it was rather for the sake of 
rest than with the expectation of any fulfilment of the dreams 
of her youth. 

Implora pace. She has fought a hard fight, she has struggled 
bravely against odds, she has traversed many a flinty track and 
steep mountain-ridge, and now surely the time is at hand for the 
weary to be at rest. Yet on this twelfth of November, the anni- 
versary of her long-faded triumph, she can still forget all pain 
and sorrow for a few hours, and be young again. She is wander- 
ing by the sunny shores of the Lake of Orta ; she is hurrying 
through the starlit streets of Milan on Francesco's arm ; time and 
space are annihilated, and two lovers are happy. And soon her 
day-dream turns into a sleeping one. Her eyes are closed, a 
peaceful smile is upon her lips; the clasp of her fingers which 
hold the precious letters relaxes, and they slide down into the 
fender, where presently a hot coal falls upon one of them, and so 
they blaze up and are consumed and lost to her forever. Sleep 
on, tired little drudge, while the city chimes ring out the hours, 
and the candles sink in their sockets, and the ashes on the hearth 
turn gi'ey. The night is far spent; the day is at hand. 


With early morning, in came the landlady, a lead, rough- 
headed woman, and descrying the Signorina still asleep in her 
arm-chair, began to rate her soundly. ' Well, I declare ! Never 
been in yer bed all the night through ! Talk about being hill ! — 
why, what can you expect ? If ever there was one to fly full in 
the face of Providence, 'tis you. Now, just you get up out of 
that cheer this immediate, and — ' But Mrs. Jones' well-meant 
scolding dropped suddenly into an awe-struck silence when she 
drew nearer, and, looking into the face of her lodger, perceived 
that she was dead ! 



Outside of my window, two narrow perpendicular mirrors 
parallel with the casement, project into the street, yet with a 
certain unobtrusiveness of angle that enables them to reflect the 
people who pass without any reciprocal disclosure of their own. 
The men and women, hurrying by, not only do not know they 
are observed, but, what is worse, do not even see their own 
reflection in this hypocritical plane, and are consequently unable 
through its aid to correct any carelessness of garb, gait, or 
demeanour. At first this seems to be taking an unfair advant- 
age of the human animal, who invariably assumes an attitude 
when he is conscious of being under human focus ; but I observe 
that my neighbours" windows, right and left, have a similar 
apparatus, that this custom is evidently a local one, and the 
locality is German. Being an American stranger, I am quite 
willing to leave the morality of the transaction with the locality 
and adapt myself to the custom. Indeed, I had thought of offer- 
ing it, figuratively, as an excuse for any unfairness of observation 
I might make in these pages ; but my German mirrors reflect 
without prejudice, selection, or comment, and the American eye, 


I fear, is but mortal, and, like all mortal eyes, figuratively, as 
well as in that literal fact noted by an eminent scientific authority, 
infinitely inferior to the work of the best German opticians. 

And this leads me to my first observation, namely, that a 
majority of those who pass my mirror have weak eyes, and have 
already invoked the aid of the optician. Why are these people, 
physically in all else so much stronger than my countrymen, 
deficient in eyesight ? Or, to omit the passing testimony of my 
Spion, and take my own personal experience, why does my young- 
friend Max — brightest of all schoolboys, who already wears the 
cap that denotes the highest class — why does he shock me by 
suddenly drawing forth a pair of spectacles, that upon his fresh, 
rosy face would be an obvious mocking imitation of the Herr 
Papa — if German children could ever, by any possibility, be 
irreverent? Or why does the Friiulein Marie, his sister, pink as 
Aurora, round as Hebe, suddenly veil her blue eyes with a golden 
lorgnette in the midst of our polyglot conversation ? Is it to evade 
the direct, admiring glance of the impulsive American? Dare I 
say no? Dare I say that that frank, clear, honest, earnest return 
of the eye, which has, on the Continent, most unfairly brought 
my fair countrywomen under criticism, is quite as common to 
her more carefully-guarded, tradition-hedged German sisters? 
No, it is not that ! Is it anything in these emerald— and opal- 
tinted skies, which seem so unreal to the American eye, and for 
the first time explain what seemed the unreality of German 
Art ? — in these mysterious yet restful Rhine fogs which prolong 
the twilight and hang the curtain of romance even over midday ? 
Surely not. Is it not rather, O Herr Professor, profound in 
analogy and philosophy — is it not rather this abominable black- 
letter — this elsewhere-discarded, uncouth, slowly decaying text 
known as the German Alphabet, that plucks out the bright eyes 
of youth and bristles the gateways of your language with a 
chevaux de /rise of splintered rubbish ? Why must I hesitate 
whether it is an accident of the printer's press or the poor quality 
of the paper that makes this letter a ' k ' or a ■ V ? Why must 1 
halt in an emotion or a thought because ' s' and '/' are so nearly 


alike? Is it not enough that I, an impulsive American, accus- 
tomed to do a thing first and reflect upon it afterwards, must 
grope my way through a blind alley of substantives and adjec- 
tives, only to find the verb of action in an obscure corner, with- 
out ruining my eyesight in the groping ? 

But I dismiss these abstract reflections for a fresh and active 
resentment. This is the fifth or sixth dog that has passed my 
Spion, harnessed to a small barrow-like cart, and tugging pain- 
fully at a burden so ludicrously disproportionate to his size, that 
it would seem a burlesque but for the poor dog's sad sincerity. 
Perhaps it is because I have the barbarian's fondness for dogs, 
and for their lawless, gentle, loving uselessness, that I rebel 
against this unnatural servitude. It seems as monstrous as if a 
child were put between the shafts and made to carry burdens ; 
and I have come to regard those men and women who in the 
weakest perfunctory way affect to aid the poor brute, by laying 
idle hands on the barrow behind, as I would unnatural parents. 
Pegasus harnessed to the Thracian herdsman's plough was no 
more of a desecration. I fancy the poor dog seems to feel the 
monstrosity of the performance, and, in sheer shame for his 
master, forgivingly tries to assume it is play, and I have seen a 
little 'colley' running along, barking and endeavouring to leap 
and gambol in the shafts, before a load that anyone out of this 
locality would have thought the direst cruelty. Nor do the 
older or more powerful dogs seem to become accustomed to it. 
When his cruel taskmaster halts with his wares, instantly the dog, 
either by sitting down in his harness, or crawling over the shafts, 
or by some unmistakable dog-like trick, utterly scatters any such 
delusion of even the habit of servitude. The few of his race who 
do not work in this ducal city seem to have lost their democratic 
canine sympathies, and look upon him with something of that in- 
different calm with which yonder officer eyes the road-mender in 
the ditch below him. He loses even the characteristics of species 
— the common cur and mastiff look alike in harness — the burden 
levels all distinctions. I have said that he was generally sincere 
in his efforts. I recall but one instance to the contrary. I re- 


member a young colley, who first attracted my attention by his 
persistent barking. Whether he did this, as the ploughboy 
whistled, 'for want of thought,' or whether it was a running pro- 
test against his occupation, I could not determine, until one day I 
noticed that in barking he slightly threw up his neck and 
shoulders, and the two-wheeled barrow-like vehicle behind him, 
having its weight evenly poised on the wheels by the trucks in 
the hands of its driver, enabled him by this movement to cun- 
ningly throw the centre of gravity and the greater weight on the 
man — a fact which that less sagacious brute never discerned. 
Perhaps I am using a strong expression regarding his driver ; it 
may be that the purely animal wants of the dog, in the way of 
food, care, and shelter, are more bountifully supplied in servitude 
than in freedom ; becoming a valuable and useful property, he 
may be cared for and protected as such — an odd recollection that 
this argument had been used forcibly in regard to human slavery 
in my own country strikes me here— but his picturesqueness and 
poetry are gone, and I cannot help thinking that the people who 
have lost this gentle, sympathetic, characteristic figure from their 
domestic life and surroundings have not acquired an equal gain 
through his harsh labours. 

To the American eye there is throughout the length and 
breadth of this foreign city no more notable and striking object 
than the average German house servant ! It is not that she has 
passed my Spion a dozen times within the last hour — for here 
9 he is messenger, porter, and commissionnaire as well as house- 
maid and cook — but that she is always a phenomenon to the 
American stranger, accustomed to be abused in his own country 
by his foreign Irish handmaiden. Her presence is as refreshing 
and grateful as the morning light, and as inevitable and regular. 
When I add that with the novelty of being well served is com- 
bined the satisfaction of knowing that you have in your house- 
hold an intelligent being, who reads and writes with fluency, 
and yet does not abstract your books nor criticise your literary 
composition ; who is cleanly clad, and neat in her person, without 
the suspicion of having borrowed her mistress's dresses; who 


may be good-looking without the least imputation of coquetry or 
addition to her followers ; who is obedient without servility, 
polite without flattery, willing and replete with supererogatory 
performance, without the expectation of immediate pecuniary 
return, what wonder that the American householder translated 
into German life feels himself in a new Eden of domestic possi- 
bilities unrealised in any other country, and begins to believe in 
a present and future of domestic happiness! What wonder that 
the American bachelor living in German lodgings feels half the 
terrors of the conjugal future removed, and rushes madly into 
love — and housekeeping ! What wonder that I, a long-suffering 
and patient master, who have been served by the reticent but 
too imitative Chinaman ; who have been ' Massa ' to the child- 
like but untruthful negro ; who have been the recipient of the 
brotherly but uncertain ministrations of the South Sea Islander, 
and have been proudly disregarded by the American Aborigine, 
only in due time to meet the fate of my countrymen at the hands 
of Bridget the Celt — what wonder that I gladly seize this oppor- 
tunity to sing the praises of my German handmaid ! Honour to 
thee, Lenchen, wherever thou goest ! Heaven bless thee in thy 
walks abroad, whether with that tightly booted cavalryman in 
thy Sunday gown and best, or in blue polka-dotted apron and 
bare head as thou trottest nimbly on mine errands — errands 
which Bridget O'Flaherty would scorn to undertake, or under- 
taking would hopelessly blunder in ! Heaven bless thee, child, 
in thy early risings and in thy later sittings, at thy festive board, 
overflowing with Essig and Fett, in the mysteries of thy Kuchen, 
in the fullness of thy Bier, and in thy nightly suffocations beneath 
mountainous and multitudinous feathers ! Good, honest, simple- 
minded, cheerful, duty-loving Lenchen ! Have not thy brothers, 
strong and dutiful as thou, lent their gravity and earnestness to 
sweeten and strengthen the fierce youth of the Republic beyond 
the seas, and shall not thy children inherit the broad prairies that 
still wait for them, and discover the fatness thereof, and send a 
portion transmuted in glittering shekels back to thee ! 

Almost as notable are the children whose round faces have as 


frequently been reflected in my Spion. Whether it is only a fancy 
of mine that the average German retains longer than any other 
race his childish simplicity and unconsciousness, or whether it is 
because I am more accustomed to the extreme self-assertion and 
early maturity of American children, I know not ; but I am 
inclined to believe that among no other people is childhood as 
perennial, and to be studied in such characteristic and quaint and 
simple phases as here. The picturesqueness of Spanish and 
Italian childhood has a faint suspicion of the pantomime and the 
conscious attitudinising of the Latin races. German children are 
not exuberant or volatile ; they are serious — a seriousness, how- 
ever, not to be confounded with the grave reflectiveness of age, 
but only the abstract wonderment of childhood. For all those 
who have made a loving study of the young human animal will 
I think admit that its dominant expression is gravity and not 
playfulness, and will be satisfied that he erred pitifully who first 
ascribed ' light-heartedness ' and ' thoughtlessness ' as part of its 
phenomena. These little creatures I meet upon the street 
whether in quaint wooden shoes and short woollen petticoats, or 
neatly booted and furred, with school knapsacks jauntily borne 
upon little square shoulders, all carry likewise in their round 
chubby faces their profound wonderment and astonishment at the 
big busy world into which they have so lately strayed. If I stop 
to speak with this little maid who scarcely reaches to the top 
boots of yonder cavalry officer, there is less of bashful self-con- 
sciousness in her sweet little face than of grave wonder at the 
foreign accent and strange ways of this new figure obtruded upon 
her limited horizon. She answers honestly, frankly, prettily, 
but gravely. There is a remote possibility that I might bite, and 
with this suspicion plainly indicated in her round blue eyes, she 
quietly slips her little red hand from mine, and moves solemnly 
away. I remember once to have stopped in the street with a fan- 
countrywoman of mine to interrogate a little figure in sabots — 
the one quaint object in the long, formal perspective of narrow, 
gray bastard-Italian facaded houses of a Rhenish German 
Strasse. The sweet little figure wore a dark blue woollen petti- 


coat that came to its^knees, grey woollen stockings covered the 
shapely little limbs below, and its very blonde hair, the colour 
of a bright dandelion, was tied in a pathetic little knot at the 
back of its round head, and garnished with an absurd green rib- 
bon. Now, although this gentlewoman's sympathies were catho- 
lic and universal, unfortunately their expression was limited to 
her own mother-tongue. She could not help pouring out upon 
the child the maternal love that was in her own womanly breast, 
nor could she withhold the 'baby talk' through which it was 
expressed. But, alas! it was in English. Hence ensued a collo- 
quy, tender and extravagant on the part of the elder, grave and 
wondering on the part of the child. But the lady had a natural 
feminine desire for reciprocity, particularly in the presence of 
our emotion-scorning sex, and as a last resource she emptied the 
small silver of her purse into the lap of the coy maiden. It was 
a declaration of love, susceptible of translation at the nearest cake- 
shop. But the little maid, whose dress and manner certainly did 
not betray an habitual disregard of gifts of this kind, looked at 
the coin thoughtfully, but not regretfully. Some innate sense of 
duty, equally strong with that of being polite to strangers, filled 
her consciousness. With the utterly unexpected remark that her 
father did not allow her to take money, the queer little figure moved 
away, leaving the two Americans covered with mortification. 
The rare American child who could have done this, would have 
done it with an attitude. This little German bourgeoise did it 
naturally. I do not intend to rush to the deduction that German 
children of the lower classes habitually refuse pecuniary gratui- 
ties ; indeed, I remember to have wickedly suggested to my com- 
panion that, to avoid impoverishment in a foreign land, she 
should not repeat the story nor the experiment, but I simply 
offer it as a fact — and to an American at home or abroad a novel 

I owe to these little figures another experience quite as strange. 
It was at the close of a dull winter's day — a day from which all 
out-of-door festivity seemed to be naturally excluded ; there was 
a baleful promise of snow in the air and a dismal reminiscence of 


it under foot, when suddenly, in striking contrast with the dread- 
ful bleakness of the street, a half-dozen children, masked and 
bedizened with cheap ribbons, spangles, and embroidery, flashed 
across my Spion. I was quick to understand the phenomenon. 
It was the Carnival season ! Only the night before I had been 
to the great opening masquerade — a famous affair, for which this 
art-loving city is noted, and to which strangers are drawn from 
all parts of the Continent. I remember to have wondered if the 
pleasure-loving German in America had not broken some of his 
conventional shackles in emigration, for certainly I had found 
the Carnival balls of the ' Lieder Kranz Society in New York, 
although decorous and fashionable to the American taste, to be 
wild dissipations compared with the practical seriousness of this 
native performance, and I hailed the presence of these children 
in the open street as a promise of some extravagance, real, un- 
trammelled, and characteristic. I seized my hat and— overcoat — 
a dreadful incongruity to the spangles that had whisked by — and 
followed the vanishing figures round the corner. Here they were 
re-inforced by a dozen men and women, fantastically but not 
expensively arrayed, looking not unlike the supernumeraries of 
some provincial opera troupe. Following the crowd, which 
already began to pour in from the side-streets, in a few moments 
I was in the broad grove-like alUe, and in the midst of the 
masquer aders. 

I remember to have been told that this was a characteristic 
annual celebration of the lower classes, anticipated with eager- 
ness and achieved with difficulty, indeed often only through the 
alternative of pawning clothing and furniture to provide the 
means for this ephemeral transformation. I remember being 
warned also that the buffoonery was coarse, and some of the slang 
hardly fit for ' ears polite.' But I am afraid that I was not 
shocked at the prodigality of these poor people, who purchased a 
holiday on such hard conditions ; and as to the coarseness of the 
performance, J felt that I certainly might go where these children 

At first the masquerading figures appeared to be mainly com- 


posed of young girls of ages varying from nine to eighteen. 
Their costumes — if what was often only the addition of a broad, 
bright-coloured stripe to the hem of a short dress could be called 
a costume — were plain, and seemed to indicate no particular his- 
torical epoch or character. A general suggestion of the peasant's 
holiday attire was dominant in all the costumes. Everybody 
was closely masked. All carried a short, gaily-striped bdton of 
split wood, called a ' Pritsche,' which, when struck sharply on the 
back or shoulders of some spectator or sister masker, emitted a 
clattering, rasping sound. To wander hand in hand down this 
broad allee,to strike almost mechanically and often monotonously 
at each other with their bcitons, seemed to be the extent of that 
wild dissipation. The crowd thickened : young men with false 
noses, hideous masks, cheap black or red cotton dominoes, 
soldiers in uniform, crowded past each other up and down the 
promenade, all carrying a Pritsche, and exchanging blows with 
each other, but always with the same slow seriousness of demean- 
our which, with their silence, gave the performance the effect of 
a religious rite. Occasionally some one shouted ; perhaps a 
dozen young fellows broke out in song, but the shout was provo- 
cative of nothing, the song faltered as if the singers were fright- 
ened at their own voices. One blithe fellow, with a bear's head 
on his fur-capped shoulders, began to dance, but on the crowd 
stopping to observe him seriously, he apparently thought better 
of it, and slipped away. Nevertheless, the solemn beating of 
Pritsche over each other's backs went on. I remember that I was 
followed the whole length of the allie by a little girl scarcely 
twelve years old, in a bright striped skirt and black mask, who, 
from time to time, struck me over the shoulders with a regularity 
and sad persistency that was peculiarly irresistible to me ; the 
more so, as I could not help thinking that it was not half as 
amusing to herself. Once only did the ordinary brusque gallan- 
try of the Carnival spirit show itself. A man with an enormous 
pair of horns, like a half-civilized satyr, suddenly seized a young 
girl and endeavoured to kiss her. A slight struggle ensued, in 
which I fancied I detected in the girl's face and manner the con- 


fusion and embarrassment of one who was obliged to overlook, 
or seem to accept, a familiarity that was distasteful, rather than 
be laughed at for prudishness or ignorance. But the incident 
was exceptional. Indeed, it was particularly notable to my 
American eyes to find such decorum where there might easily 
have been the greatest license. I am afraid that an American 
mob of this class would have scarcely been as orderly and civil 
under the circumstances. They might have shown more humour, 
but there would have probably been more effrontery ; they might 
have been more exuberant, they would certainly have been 
drunker. I did not notice a single masquerader unduly excited 
by liquor — there was not a word or motion from the lighter sex 
that could have been construed into an impropriety. There was 
something almost pathetic to me in this attempt to wrest gaiety 
and excitement out of these dull materials — to fight against the 
blackness of that wintry sky, and the stubborn hardness of the 
frozen soil, with these painted sticks of wood — to mock the 
dreariness of their poverty with these flaunting raiments. It did 
not seem like them, or rather, consistent with my idea of them. 
There was incongruity deeper than their bizarre externals ; a half- 
melancholy, half-crazy absurdity in their action, the substitution 
of a grim spasmodic frenzy for levity, that rightly or wrongly 
impressed me. When the increasing gloom of the evening 
made their figures undistinguishable, I turned into the first cross- 
street. As I lifted my hat to my persistent young friend with the 
Pritsche, I fancied she looked as relieved as myself. If, however, 
I was mistaken — if that child's pathway through life be strewn 
with rosy recollections of the unresisting back of the stranger 
American — if any burden, O Gretchen, laid upon thy young 
shoulders be lighter for the trifling one thou didst lay upon mine, 
know then that I too am content. 

* * * * * * 

It is possible that my Spion has shown me little that is really 
characteristic of the people, and the few observations I have 
made I offer only as an illustration of the impressions made upon 
two-thirds of American strangers in the larger towns of Germany. 


Assimilation goes on more rapidly than we are led to imagine. 
As I have seen my friend Karl, fresh and awkward in his first 
uniform, lounging later down the allee with the blase listlessness 
of a full-blown militaire, so I have seen American and English 
residents gradually lose their peculiarities, and melt and merge 
into the general mass. Returning to my Spion after a flying trip 
through Belgium and France, as I look down the long perspec- 
tive of the Strasse, I am conscious of recalling the same style of 
architecture and humanity at Aachen, Brussels, Lille, and Paris: 
and am inclined to believe that, even as I would have met in a 
journey of the same distance through a parallel of the same lati- 
tude in America a greater diversity of type and character, and a 
more distinct flavour of locality, even so would I have met a 
more heterogeneous and picturesquedisplay from a club window on 
Fifth Avenue, New York, or Montgomery Street, San Francisco. 


We were so sorry that our letter last month was too late for 
the Muse. 

We hope all our friends of the Muse had as jolly a time 
Christmas as we did. Santa Claus was good to us all. We were 
gladder to get our books about animals than any other present. 
Another nice present some of us had, was a quantity of nice pic- 
tures, animals, birds, and other pretty things. Miss says 

we must write a separate letter next month. We will try. 
Hoping it is not too late to wish our readers " Happy New Year," 
we will say good-bye. 

Kindergarten Class, 
St. Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C. 






Subscription. — One copy, per year, 50 cents. Single num- 
bers 10 cents. 

fi^° Correspondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the book store of A. Williams 

Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month, 
are requested to notify us at once. The Muse will be issued 
monthly during term time, or nine numbers a year, and adver- 
tisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a year's con- 
tract. All matters on business should be addressed to the 
Muse, St. Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C. 

A "Happy New Year!" 

To our Friends, far and near! 

Christmas has come and gone. The death of the old year has 
ushered in the birth of a new one. 1880 is upon us ; the dark- 
ness of its unknown future, flecked by many a bright and sunny 

hope ; 

" So kind friends we greet you, 

Send blessings to meet you, 
And many good wishes for all the new year. 

May each happy day, 

As it passes away, 
Leave you some memory untroubled and clear. 

Bright skies shine above you, 

And may all those who love you 
Be constant and true as the friends one holds dear." 


The New Year finds us again at our desks, and busy with 
our books, with a keen sense of approaching examinations. 

On Sunday, the first of 1880, Bishop Lyman officiated in our 
Chapel, giving us one of his pleasantest "talks," and administer- 
ing the Holy Communion. 

Our Christmas holidays, with all their merriment, are passed 
and gone, and the monotonous routine of school duty again 
employs our time and thoughts. 

Married, in the Church of the Good Shepherd, on Dec. 16th, 
by Eev. Mr. Eich, Miss Kate B. Snow to Mr. A. W. Barron, 
brother-in-law of the officiating clergyman. 

November saw two St. Maryites of Morganton united in the 
holy bonds of matrimony : Lilian Walton to Mr. F. H. Burr, of 
Wilmington, and Mary E. Sprague to Mr. Mcintosh, of Green- 
ville, S. C. 

The " New Term" will begin on Friday, January 30th. We 
have reason to expect a good many accessions to our number, and 
it is worth while to note an unprecedented fact — that no name is 
to be dropped from the present roll. Send for circulars, and let 
us hear from you in time to secure places. 

It may interest our friends elsewhere to have some account 
of the various events which combined to make this a most enjoy- 
able season to us. In the first place, our family remained almost 
intact. Very few of the girls disregarded Mr. Smedes request, 
that they would not go away, as the recess would be so short — 
only two days. So we did not have the deserted feeling that 
usually makes a holiday wearisome — " the more the merrier," is 
a good old proverb, the truth of which is again verified. And 
oh ! the " boxes " of Christmas and comfort that came to heal every 
little pang of disappointment. Numberless, bountiful and rich 
in all "goodies" they came, and continued to come. Day after 
day feasts were spread by the grateful and generous recip- 
ients, who on hospitable thoughts intent, were yet scarcely able 
to find guests who were not as well supplied as they. There's 


nothing like a Christmas cake from home — or a turkey cooked in 
the home kitchen — to make glad a homesick girl! 

But indeed our pleasures here were home-like, too, and the 
sweet " peace and good will " of Christmas-tide mingled with the 
joy that every heart instinctively feels at this glad season, to make 
us all happy. 

The Chapel, on Christmas eve, was decked in her festival robe 
— "the fir tree, the pine tree, and the box met together to beautify 
the sanctuary, and to make glorious the place of the feet of the Holy 
Child Jesus. A preparatory service at night, with appropriate 
sermon by the Rev. J. E. C. Smedes, attuned our hearts for the 
full, rich service of the morrow — when, with all our hearts, we 
joined our voices to the grand harmony of the organ and 
" shouted the glad tidings " with exultation to our little corner 
of the blessed earth. 

Somewhere in the wee sma' hours Santa Claus went on his 
accustomed rounds, and daylight found us all rejoicing in the 
gifts he dropped in every alcove and on every dressing table — 
while " Merry Christmas " was caught up by every voice, until 
the very air seemed to ring with it. 

Our Christmas dinner left us nothing to wish for — oysters and 
turkeys, and mince pies, and all the appendages of nuts, raisins, 
&c, were as plenty as blackberries, and a good deal nicer. 
Then at night we had a Christmas Tree ! a veritable Tree ! Devised 
by Fraulein Blume, and arranged by her (with the assistance of 
Mr. Sanborn) in her own loved German fashion, it was simply 
magnificent. Most mysteriously had the parlor been kept closed 
all that afternoon, and when the doors were opened and we 
marched in in procession, singing the Carol from the December 
Muse, the beautiful vision met our astonished gaze. A great holly, 
reaching from floor to ceiling, stood in the centre of the other- 
wise darkened room, fairly ablaze with numberless tapers and 
heavy-laden with fruits of Santa Claus' providing. The dear old 
Saint on this occasion was, we were told, the agent of Mr. Smedes 
and the " faculty " to bring pleasure to us, their children. A 
thing of light and beauty it was, and as something pretty and 


"sweet" for everybody was handed down, we thought nobody 
could want kinder friends nor a happier Christmas. 

The Lectures at St. Mary's. — By invitation of the Principal 
of St. Mary's School, Mr. Ed. Graham Daves, of Baltimore, visited 
Raleigh and delivered to its citizens and the pupils of the school 
upon Monday and Tuesday evenings two lectures upon the miracle 
plays of the middle ages, and particularly upon their famous 
modern representative — known as the Passion Play of Ober- 

Although a North Carolinian by birth — one of the Newbern 
family of Daveses — this has been the first visit of Mr. Daves to 
the capital of his State since the beginning of the war. Resign- 
ing his professorship of Greek at Trinity at that time, he spent 
twelve years in Europe, to return to this country as professor of 
Belles- Lettres in the city of Baltimore. 

The subject of Monday evening's address was the history of the 
miracle plays — the collections of them preserved and known as 
the Coventry, the Chester and the Townley series — the manner 
of their exhibition, their effect and usefulness, their defects and 
excellences, which points Mr. Daves discussed and amply illus- 
trated by quotations and illustrations. 

While anachronisms and absurdities of many kinds are abun- 
dant in these plays, there are fugitive flights of purest poetry, 
and authorities were mentioned and argument employed to show 
their importance in teaching sacred truths and facts to the people 
of an age when books did not exist practically for them, when 
the Bible was sealed or forbidden to common use, and the church 
services rendered in an unintelligible tongue. Rude in their 
execution, exhibited upon a portable scaffold at convenient 
places in the street, or, later, in a church building badly adapted 
for dramatic performances, these miracle plays were effective in 
their influence and became a great feature of holiday observances, 
as on the occasion of Elizabeth's visit to Leicester, as the reader 
of Kenilworth will remember. 

But a synopsis of the lecture is impossible within the limits of 
a " local," nor is any repetition of the history of the miracle plays 


of mediaeval Europe necessary in the face of the intelligence of a 
Raleigh audience. 

On Thursday evening the lecturer confined himself to a minute 
description of the Ober-Amergau Play, at which he was present 
in 1870. This fact enabled him to make peculiarly interesting 
(beyond his scholarship and the winning qualities which make 
interesting any theme he touches) his vivid description of this 
great play. 

Ober-Amergau is a little Alpine village of Bavaria, remote 
from the world, where tourists seldom go. A plague, produced 
by the miseries of the wars of Gustavus Adolphus, afflicted its 
inhabitants in 1630, and they vowed to the Virgin that if she 
would stay the plague, a passion play would be ever celebrated 
in her honor. The vow was heard and well has their faith been 
kept since 1632, when the first representation took place. 

The lecturer failed not to point out that we owe this, the great- 
est and only remaining play of its nature — a play in honor of the 
Holy Virgin — to, at least indirectly, the great champion of Pro- 
testantism, Gustavus Adolphus himself. 

The play represents the passion of our Lord, following with 
hardly an exception the literalness of the Bible narrative. 

It is given in an uncovered structure, seating seven thousand, 
in which is a very broad and deep stage, the scenes heing streets 
in Jerusalem, and showing the residences of Annas and Pontius 
Pilate, the Governor. 

The chorus consists of twenty voices, and in all the number of 
participants exceeds five hundred. 

The play is in three parts, occupying the whole of one day in 
its delivery, and is given upon Sundays and holidays of summer 
time once in every ten years. 

Introductory to the representation of the incidents of the pas- 
sion are tableaux of scenes taken from the Old Testament, the 
relation of which to the parts of the passion itself are told in song 
by the chorus. 

As said above, no account of the lectures is a substitute for 
hearing them ; it is enough that the audiences which greeted Mr. 


Daves felicitate themselves in being so fortunate as to have 
enjoyed the most intellectual treat that has been offered Raleigh 
for many a day. 

On New Year's Eve the Vocal Class entertained us, and our 
friends of the city, with Abt's operetta of " Cinderella." Like 
the " Red Riding Hood " of last year, our new heroine won all 
hearts. Old and young were true to the love of folk lore, 
and duly sympathized with the abused and neglected sister, 
and shared the joy of her triumph over "envy and hate." The 
singers rendered the choruses accurately and with good spirit. 
An occasional solo or duett gave a pleasing variety, and ever and 
anon the magnificent voice of Miss Blume (our Singing Teacher) 
poured forth strains of wondrous power and sweetness in the role 
of " Cinderella," which had been assigned to her. 

The scenery was freshly painted by Miss Norwood, assisted by 
some of her pupils, and would have ornamented a stage of greater 
pretensions than ours. The costumes were new, tasteful and 
striking. The mise-en-scene was excellent, and the tableaux 
were beautifully effective. 

The " sleep of the Fairy Birds " — the gorgeous " King's Fete," 
and the combination of all the characters in the " final scene," 
were particularly admired. 

We offer our thanks to the ladies of the household who so 
unselfishly gave their time and work to aid in making this 
Operetta a success, and we take this opportunity of thanking 
those gentlemen from the city who composed the "Orchestra," 
for without the help of their instruments our best efforts would 
have lost their chief charm. 


A prize will be given at the end of the scholastic year in June 
to any girl who, honor bright, from her own knowledge or diligent 
research, and without any other assistance whatever, shall have 
sent in the greatest number of correct answers, provided that they 


amount to three-fourths of the whole number of questions pro- 
posed in the series which she may select. The answers, whether 
from St. Mary's or other schools, must be sent in under a pseu- 
donyme, accompanied, in the first instance, by the real name, 
which will be known only to the person in charge of this depart- 
ment, addressed to "The Muse," and indorsed " Prize Questions'' 
on the envelope. These are open to any school-girl from any 

A great deal of interest has been manifested in these " ques- 
tions," and we hope to have answers representing a number of 
schools and localities. 


20. How was Marie Stuart descended from King Rene ? 

21. By whom was the first written Arithmetic published, and 
when ? 

22. What was Beethoven's physical infirmity, and at what age 
did it affect him ? 

23. The origin of " Man proposes but God disposes ?" 

24. What is the difference between the battles of Ipsus and of 
Issus, of Chaeronea and of Coronea ? 

25. By the birth of what two great men was the year 1564 
rendered illustrious ? 

. 26. Who was the founder of the city of Palmyra ? 

27. Who were the "Seven Champions of Christendom?" 

28. What is meant by the Year of Jubilee, and how often does 
it come? 

29. What is a " Venice glass '* ? 

30. What is the meaning of the word " Selah " ? 


21. AVhat three men have been masters in the arts of the silver- 
smith and the gem-engraver? 

22. What is the origin of the term pasquinade ? 

23. Who was the " faultless painter " ? 

24. What great personages, mythical or historical, have been 


25. What Englishman is at once an artisan, an artist, a painter 
and a poet ? 

26. Who have ever received the great papal gift — the Dove of 
Pearls — and for what ? 

27. Who was David Alroy ? 

28. What is a Barmecide Feast, and what the origin of the 
expression ? 

29. In what modern novel do we find a vivid description of 
Florentine Society in the time of Lorenzo the magnificent ? 

30. What modern novel gives the life of the parents of Eras- 
mus ? 


The Artist Corot. — The late J. B. C. Corot produced a 
great number of paintings during his long and active life, and 
some idea of his industry may be gained from the fact that even 
in the years immediately preceding his death — that is from 1870 
to 1875 — the veteran artist painted thirty-nine finished pictures, 
without counting sketches, and unfinished work. He died aged 

Among the art-treasures of the Louvre is a curious collection 
bequeathed to the Musee in March, 1874, by M. and Madame 
Phillipe Lenoir. This collection is wholly made up of snuff- 
boxes, miniatures, bonbonnieres, jewelry, &c, comprising in all 
some three hundred and eighty objects. The snuff-boxes with 
miniatures constitute the most important part of the legacy. On 
these tiny caskets the goldsmiths of the eighteenth century have 
lavished all their skill and art. 

In many instances a celebrated workman has not disdained to 
inscribe his name on the little chef-d'ceuire, but even when this 
is lacking, particular signs still exist to guide all researches as 
to the date of the work. These signs are the ancient trade-marks 
of the Jewellers of Paris. 

Experts in these matters are learned in the different marks 


used by different artists, and those that helong to the work of 
particular epochs. 

The Lenoir collection has been arranged in five divisions : 

The first comprising the objects in pietra dura, mosaic or inlaid 
work; the second those in gold, gold and enamel and cameos; 
the third the enamelled snuff-boxes ; the fourth those set with 
paintings; the fifth the miscellaneous objects, such as ivory ear- 
rings, bonbonnieres, &c. 

One of the most gorgeous objects in the first case is a snuff-box 
composed of ten plaques of oriental agate, of a semitransparent 
white lined with pink. The cover is adorned with a group of 
fruits made in precious stones in high relief. The mountings 
are of three shades of gold. 

A snuff-box in rock-crystal, with mountings of wrought gold, 
bears upon its cover an enamelled minature portrait of Madame 
de Montespan. 

A very peculiarly formed snuff-box is in the shape of a sarco- 
phagus. It is of gold, mounted with a small finely painted 
miniature of Cosmo III., Duke of Tuscany. The work is of the 
seventeenth century. The gold is of three shades. 

Another box of gold and blue enamel is adorned with a fine 
miniature of Marie Antoinette by Sicardi. 

A peculiar and interesting historical souvenir is a box of 
tortoise-shell, bearing on its cover of chased gold, the portrait of 
Louis XVI. The miniature is surrounded by a gold bordering, 
on which is the inscription — " He would still reign, had he known 
how to punish." 

The collection of miniatures is not very extensive, but it 
includes some fine Petitots, notably a portrait of Queen Christina 
of Sweden, and one of the great Conde. 

There is also a beautiful miniature portrait of the ill-fated 
Princesse de Lamballe. 


(Founded 1842.) 





This School now offers inducements such as have never before 
been afforded by any school in the South. 

In addition to its acknowledged PRE-EMINENCE in point of 
the special advantages claimed are : 

1st. A Corps of Twelve Teachers, carefully selected, with 
a view to fitness for their respective positions, and therefore 
thorough, efficient and enthusiastic in their work. 

2nd. A School of Languages, with eight teachers. 

English is regarded as of the first importance, and receives 
special attention in two comprehensive and thorough courses, 
Preparatory and Academic. 

Latin, by a graduate of the University of Virginia. 

French, after Sauveur's conversational method, by a French 
lady whose ability is best shown by the results of her teaching. 

German scholars have the advantage of conversation and 
reading with a highly educated native German. 

3rd. The Best Equipped Musical Department in the 
South, consisting of 16 pianos, a cabinet organ, a magnificent new 
pipe organ of 2 manuals and 20 stops — the largest for school 
purposes in the United States — and the only PEDAL PIANO south 
of New York. Eugene Thayer, the finest pedal player in this 
country, recommends its use as the only way to acquire correct 

4th. The use of Music of the Highest Order, as shown 
by the programmes of the monthly Recitals. 

5th. A Vocal Teacher, from the Royal Leipzig Conserva- 
tory. This lady possesses a beautiful soprano voice, thoroughly 
developed. As a proof of her superior cultivation, it is only 
necessary to state that she has sung in the world-renowned 
Gewandhaus concerts. 

6th. An Art Department, lately refitted with the best models 
from Europe, and under the charge of a teacher from Cooper 
Institute, who has had the additional advantage of constant study 
and practice under one of our finest artists. 

The Principal is determined that the advantages offered by St. 
Mary's in every department shall be unsurpassed. 

The 76th Term begins Friday, January 30th, 1880. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars, address the 

St. Mary's School, 


The Department of Music offers great inducements to young 
ladies wishing to obtain a thorough knowledge of music in all 
its branches. In order to meet the requirements of advanced 
organ instruction, a fine new PIPE ORGAN of TWO MANUELS and 
TWENTY STOPS has been placed in the Chapel, and the only 
Pedal Piano South of New York is at the service of organ stu- 
dents. A vocalist from the Royal Leipzig Conservatory has been 
added to the corps of teachers, and no pains or expense will be 
spared to make this the first musical school in the South. 

Persons outside of the School can make arrangements for 
either Piano, Organ or Vocal Lessons by applying to the Director 
of Music. 





...'.' THE REV. GEO. M. HUNT, 

Rector of Christ Church, 

J&sr Price, Fifty Cents JPer Annum. ~@a 



Grand, Spare Si Upright Fiano Fortes and Organs, 

, Factor?, Cor, St, Peter and Sterrett Sts. Warerooms, 373 W, Baltimore St, 



Opp. the Eutaw House. 

These instruments have been prominently before the 
public for the last fifteen years. Their durability, 
their workmanship and their general excel- 
lence in all respects, have gained for them an unpur- 
chased pre-eminence. Constructed of the Very 
Best Material. Every Instrument fully 
guaranteed for five years. 

For illustrated catalogue and references apply to above address. 

Established in 1793. 

Is PRE-EMINENT among Southern Boarding Schools 
for Boys in AGE, NUMBEKS, AEEA of patronage/and (the 
Superintendent feels safe in adding) in the character and results 
of its combined civil and military DISCIPLINE. 

The catalogue for 1879 will contain more than 160 names, 
from twelve States of the Union, and South America and Asia 
are also represented. 

Board and Tuition, $110 per Session, of 20 Weeks. 

For catalogue giving full particulars, address 

Ma/). JR. BINGHAM, Sup't. 



On the most Reasonable Terms. 


New Pianos, fully warranted, $225 and upwards. 

Specifications furnished for Church and Chapel Organs of any 
size. . 

All kinds of Sheet Music furnished wholesale and retail. 

Parties wishing anything in the musical line should write for 
our terms before purchasing. 


Department of Music, 




Fine Teas, Wines and Liquors, Ales and Porters and 
. G-roceries and Provisions generally. 

Fayetteville Street, MaleigJi, JV. C. 





No. 19 Fayetteville Street, 



jt Hmttijfy Harping 



Vol. II. RALEIGH, N. C. FEBRUARY 1880. No. 6. 



Let there be Light — Poem — By a Young Soldier of Western 

North Carolina 1 

*Blind — Translated from the German of Heyse by Miss Gabrielle 

deBosset 2 

*Crowns — Margaret Peebles '. 4 

*Htgher Mathematics — Edward M. Magovern 7 

*Letterfrom Calliope — Calliope 10 

*Logic — Louise P.Allston 14 

^Lecture to Her Art Students — By Miss Norwood 18 

Old Songs with New Words— Poem 24 

A Book op the Opera — Button Cook, in Belgravia 25 

Editorial, Prize Questions, &c 31 

♦Original articles written for the Muse are marked thus.* t 





U J_i 1 I i J_i Jj Nsar Wair'enton, Fa^ier County, Va. 

40 Miles from Washington, 

■ Recommended for Location, Health, Morality, Scholarship and 

A first-class Virginia School, in which is taught in addition to 
the Classics, Elementary Law and Medicine. 

The Military does not interfere with School duties, and 
the officers are commissioned hy the Governor of the State. „ 

No. of Students 117. No. Teachers 7. 

BOARD AND TUITION {Half-Session), $95. 00. 

Address, for catalogue, 

Mlaj. J±. Gr. SMITH, Supt., 

BetHel Academy P, o., Fauanier County, ?a. 



_;eeps constantly on hand a full supply of 


French, English and German ferfamery, 



C3r_ S'wIE^«L^w^vd-JE^^« > 


Imprter anil Publisher of Music. 

Sole Agent for the famous EDITION PETERS, (Leipzic) 
AUGENER & C0./(London) and BREITKOPF& HAERTEL (Leipzic). 

Catalogues sent free on application. 

Besides these and my own renowned publications, I have a 
COMPLETE STOCK of all European publications and receive by 
weekly importations all the new works of celebrated Authors. 

Music sent for selection to Teachers and Seminaries on the 
most liberal terms. 

St. Mary's Muse. 

Vol. II. RALEIGPI, N. C, FEBRUARY, 1880. No. 6. 



When first Jehovah's high command 
Bade Earth to her existence leap, 

Thick darkness lay o'er all the land, 
And on the bosom of the deep. 

God spa!-" : and o'er the young earth flashed 
The glorious light — unknown before — 

And the bright waves of ocean dashed 
Her sun-dyed jewels on the shore. 

Thus when Sin's heavy mantle lay 
Like night, and all our race enfurled 

Shut out the light of Heaven's bright day, 
And dimmed and veiled a fallen world, 

God loved ; and lo ! a beauteous gem 
Rose glittering on the brow of Night ; 

Hope's Star, the Star of Bethlehem, 
And gave all Nations life, and light. 

Lord, as we drive o'er Life's dark wave, 
Let Mercy's light be on our path, 

Save us, thy erring children save, 

From the red lightning of Thy wrath. 







The children had been put to bed in two rooms in the upper 
story of the parsonage, and on the northern side. For lack of 
shutters, the windows were carefully hung with dark curtains, so 
that on the brightest day it was scarcely twilight within. The 
Parson's ample, quiet orchard abundantly shaded the house, and 
kept far away the bustle of daily life. 

The doctor had enjoined the greatest prudence, especially with 
regard to the little girl. All that depended upon him had been 
successfully accomplished. Now nature must quietly do the rest, 
and the excitable temperament of the girl demanded the greatest 
care and precaution. 

In the hour of trial, Marlina had been undaunted. When 
her mother had burst into tears at the sound of the doctor's step 
on the floor, it was she who had drawn near to comfort her. The 
doctor began with the boy who, agitated, but with good courage, 
sat down, and bore all; only he would not let them hold him 
during the operation, till Marlina's persuasions induced him to 
permit it. When the doctor took away his hand for a second 
from the unveiled eyes, he screamed loudly, half in terror, half 
in joy. Marlina shivered convulsively, but endured the brief 
pain in her turn without a sound. But tears gushed from her eyes, 
and her whole frame trembled so that the doctor hastily fastened 
the bandage, and himself helped her to her room, for her limbs 
failed her. There laid on her little bed, sleep and unconscious- 
ness long struggled for the mastery ; but the boy kept assuring 
them that he was perfectly well, and it was only at his father's 
command that he finally lay down. But he did not soon fall 


asleep. Mysterious, gayly-colored figures, colored for the first 
time, danced before him ; figures which were nothing to him, but 
which would be so much if those who had been congratulating 
him were right. He asked his father and mother, who sat by 
his bed, a hundred questions which science itself could not have 
answered ; for what does science know of the fount of life ? His 
father begged him to have patience, that by God's help he would 
soon gain a clearer insight even into his doubts. Now he must 
have rest, and so must Marlina, whom he might awake by his 
chatter. Then he grew still, and listened at the wall. He asked 
them in a whisper to open the door, that he might hear if she 
slept, and was not groaning with pain. His mother granted his 
request ; and he lay motionless and listening till the peaceful 
breathing of his little sleeping friend finally lulled him to sleep. 

So they lay for hours. In the village it was more quiet than 
usual. Whoever was obliged to pass the parsonage with a vehicle 
avoided all noise. The school-children, too, admonished by 
their teacher, did not storm out of school, as usual, but went two- 
by-two, past the house, glancing at it timidly, and whispering, as 
they sought a distant play-ground. Only the birds on the boughs 
did not hush their song ; but when has their tune disturbed or 
troubled the weariest child of man ? 

Not till the curfew did both children awake. The boy's first 
question was whether Marlina had called him. Then he asked 
her in an undertone how she felt. Her heavy slumber had 
scarcely rested her, and her eyes burned under their light band- 
age. But she forced herself to say that she felt better ; and she 
chatted brightly with Clement, from whose lips poured the 
strange creations of his brain. Late in the evening, when the 
moon had already risen above the forest, a child's hand knocked 
timidly at the parsonage door. It was the little girls from the 
village, with a wreath of the choicest flowers for Marlina and a 
nosegay for Clement. When they brought them to the boy his 
face brightened. The fragrance and the cool dew were refresh- 
ing to him. He said, "Give them my best thanks, they are kind 
girls; I am still sick, but when I can see, I will take their part 


against the boys." Marlina, when they laid the wreath on the 
bed by her, pushed it gently away with her little pale hands, and 
said, " I cannot ! My head swims, mother, when the flowers are 
near me. Take them to Clement ;" and she fell back into a 
feverish doze. 

[to be continued.] 


From time immemorial, crowns have been used as emblems of 
power, and as rewards of excellence of character or attainment. 

We learn, from the annals of the most ancient nations, that 
crowns were at first worn only by kings, or by those who held 
supreme control over the people; whence we infer that their 
original use was to denote power. 

We do not know when, or with what country, the custom of 
wearing crowns began, for early historians seem to have accepted 
them as an essential mark of royalty, and, therefore, leave us en- 
tirely in the dark as to their origin. Milton, indeed, in his 
History of Britain, says : "This Dunwallo (700 B. C.) was the first 
in Britain that wore a crown of gold ; and therefore, by some re- 
puted the first king." Herodotus speaks familiarly of the crowns 
of the kings of Egypt, which were handed down in regular suc- 
cession from father to son. Perhaps this custom began in Assyria 
or in Babylonia, the two oldest kingdoms according to Biblical 
records ; for the sculptures and bas-reliefs in the ruins uncovered 
by Layard reveal crowned kings, crowned eagles and crowned 
lions. The last were doubtless gods. 

If, indeed, the origin of the crown is due to these two countries, 
Egypt followed their example, and added to the outward dignity 
of her Pharaoh by placing this emblem of royalty upon his head. 
At festivals, the Pharaoh wore the crown either of Upper or of 
Lower Egypt. The former was a kind of conical helmet ; the 
latter, a short cap, with a point behind ; but on state occasions, 


there was often tied around the head of the king the figure of an 
asp. The head-dress (for it can hardly be called a crown) of the 
Queen of Egypt deserves mention because of its peculiarity. It 
was in the form of a vulture with outspread wings, the bird's 
head projecting over the forehead, the wings falling on either 
side, while the long tail-feathers extended behind. 

Persia was not behind her sister nations, for her kings wore 
magnificent crowns. Her radiate circle graced the head of Cyrus 
the Great ; or, perhaps, it would be better to say that that illus- 
trious man gave an additional grace to the crown. He was indeed 
worthy of this emblem of power ; through him had Persia 
gained her independence, and by him was laid the foundation 
of her after greatness. 

The crown is used as an emblem of ecclesiastical as well as 
of secular power. The High Priest of the Hebrews wore the 
mitre by divine command. In the Book of Exodus we have a 
description of this crown : "And thou shalt make a plate of pure 
gold, and grave upon it like the engravings of a signet, 'Holi- 
ness to the Lord.' And thou shalt put it on a blue lace, that it 
may be upon the mitre : upon the forefront of the mitre it shall 
be. And it shall be upon Aaron's forehead, that Aaron may bear 
the iniquity of the holy things." It is said that the word here 
translated "plate" properly signifies a flower. Jesus, the son of 
Sirach, calls it a crown. "It was adorned with three rows of the 
flower which is now called the blue bottle. The Jewish Doctors 
say that it was two fingers broad, of a circular form, suited to the 
shape of the head, and so long that it reached from ear to ear, 
and was fastened upon a blue lace of riband which was tied be- 
hind the head ; the remaining part of the riband was highly 
ornamented with artificial flowers." 

We have already said that crowns were used not only as em- 
blems of power, but also as rewards of excellence or virtue. 
This latter use seems to have arisen in Greece, and to have been 
adopted later by the Romans, and merged into the triumphs 
granted their victorious Generals. It was the custom in Greece 
for competitors from the different states to meet at certain peri- 


ods, and engage in contests, both physical and intellectual. These 
meetings were called national games ; and the best poet, the 
greatest philosopher, and the finest athlete were rewarded with 
crowns. These were not made of gold and precious stones ; they 
were simple wreaths of leaves or flowers. But he who was con- 
sidered worthy of receiving one of them had nothing left to de- 
sire. His praises were sung by the poets ; and he returned in 
triumph to his home, crowned not only with perishable leaves, 
but with deathless fame. Four different crowns formed the 
prizes at the respective seats of the games. To the Olympic hero 
was awarded a chaplet of wild olive ; to the Pythian, a wreath 
of laurel; the Nemean received one of olive or of parsley ; and 
the Isthmian, one of pine. 

It was natural that the stern Romans, whose chief pursuit 
was war, should use the crown principally as a reward of valor. 
They invented a great variety of them, each having its peculiar 
name and value. Those which conferred the highest honor were 
the "Corona Obsidionalis " and the "Corona Civica." The 
former was presented by a besieged city to the General who 
raised the siege, and it was made of weeds and wild flowers 
gathered from the spot where the brave deed was done. The lat- 
ter was his reward who saved the life of a fellow-soldier in battle. 

The custom of crowning poets with laurel, has come down to 
modern times. Among the number who have received this 
crown stand Petrarch and Tasso, the great Italian poets. The 
appellation, "laureate," was derived from the Latin laurus, 
"laurel," in allusion to this ancient practice; and thus the court 
poet of England receives his title of " Poet Laureate." 

The crowns of modern kingdoms differ much both in form and 
in material. Thus that of Lombardy is made of gold encircled 
with iron, rendering it peculiarly suited to the hard life and 
stern and sterling nature of the Lombard. This, in addition to 
two others, was afterward bestowed upon the German Emperors. 

The Pope's crown is triple-formed, and consists of a long cap 
or tiara of golden cloth encircled by three coronets, one rising 
above the other, surmounted by a globe and cross of gold. It is 


altogether peculiarly adapted to denote the ecclesiastical, civil 
and judicial rule he assumes. 

There is a crown for every career in life, though it may not be 
made of leaves, of gold, of precious stones, or of anything mate- 
rial. The mother's crown is the love of her children ; the school 
girl's, the approval of her teachers, and the happiness of her 
parents ; the good master's, the confidence of his servants and 
their implicit obedience ; and the servant's, the commendation of 
his master. The artist's crown is the appreciation of the few ; 
the statesman's, the applause of his country. But no crown can 
be obtained except by hard labour. The Greeks, in order to 
gain the races, practiced the strictest temperance, and underwent 
many privations. The mother has many and bitter trials in 
training her children, and the artist has many disappointments. 
But the greater the suffering and trials, the greater is the glory 
of the crown. Therefore, most glorious of all is the Christian's 
crown of immortality. Nor is the struggle hard when the prize 
is ever held before us ; not to be won by intermittent effort, but by 
constant toil. " Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee 
a crown of life." 



It is with the greatest diffidence that I approach a subject of 
this kind — diffidence arising from a knowledge of my own incapa- 
bility of treating a subject so grand and so extremely broad in its 
significance that it would be impossible to treat it fully in a short 
series of articles. I therefore will not, in course of any of the 
articles on the various divisions and subdivisions of our subject, 
attempt to enter fully into any of them, but will present, as best 
I can, the ground work, so to speak, either to be forgotten or 


reared into a full, complete structure by each individual. I will 
also append to each of my articles examples, illustrating the 
principles which I have tried to demonstrate, and will be glad 
to receive from any of my mathematical friends the solutions, 
which will be duly acknowledged in the succeeding copy of the 

Higher Mathematics is supposed to include all that part of 
pure Mathematics succeeding higher Algebra, plain and solid 
Geometry, and plain and spherical Trigonometry. This, there- 
fore, includes Coordinate Geometry, Fluxions, Quaternions, Dif- 
ferential and Integral Calculus, Calculus of Variations, Elliptic 
Functions, etc. Of the first, i. e., Coordinate, or, as it is some- 
times called, Analytical Geometry, I shall have little to say, as 
the text-books on that subject are so large in number, and differ 
so much as regards to their manner of treating the subject, that 
no person need fear to attack it. 

As regards " Fluxions," I may here observe that the subject of 
Calculus fully comprehends and contains it, I therefore postpone 
it for the present. 

I suppose, to fully one-half my readers, the term "Quaternions" 
is unknown, yet this science, still in its infancy, has solved 
problems which were believed to be incapable of solution before 
its time. 

Quaternions is a system of Mathematics, invented by Sir Wm. 
R. Hamilton in 1843. It comprises four fundamental units, and 
from thence it derived its name. These units are, Vector, Ten- 
sor, Scalar and Versor. 

Vector implies the transference of a point in a given direction, 
a given amount ; it is geometrically expressed by a parallel 
right line to the transference, and whose length equals the 
amount of transference, it is analytically expressed by a letter of the 
Greek alphabet. In the beginning of an analysis, we fix trans- 
ference in a given direction, as positive, and one in a contrary 
direction as negative. This is purely arbitrary. 

Principles. Equal Vectors are such as are parallel, and are of 
equal lengths. 

Parallel Vectors are multiples of each other. 


A Unit Vector is a vector whose length and direction is given, 
and whose length is unity. 

A Tensor is the numerical factor hy which a Unit Vector must 
be multiplied to produce a given vector. 

If two oblique vectors be multiplied, or divided by each other, 
the quotient or product is composed of two distinct parts, one 
part of which is numerical, and is called the Scalar. The other 
being a vector, perpendicular to the plane of two given vectors. 
A Scalar is represented by the letter S, written before an expres- 
sion, as S B. 

A Versor is supposed to turn a line from one vector to another. 

If we take any triangle, say ABC, represent A B by vector A, 
and BC by vector B ; CD by vector C. The transference of a 
point from A to B, then from B to C, is obviously the same as if 
we were to transfer it at once from A to C. This is in Quater- 
nions, expressed in the form of an Equation, as A+B=o, but 
" plus " and " equal " do not have an algebraical signification, 
but the expression is read " a point transferred an amount ex- 
pressed by vector A, and vector B is equal to a transference ex- 
pressed in amount and direction of vector C. 

I will now apply the preceding principles to the solution of a 
simple geometrical example, viz : If the opposite sides of a Qua- 
drilateral are equal, they will be parallel. Let the unit vectors 
along the sides be represented by B, A, C, S, respectively, then 
let m and n be the Tensors whence the sides are nB, ma, nc and ms, 
we then have by the preceding paragraph mA-f-nC-|-QiS+nB = 
or m(A-f-S,)-f-n(C+B)=0, but since mand n are mutually inde- 
pendent, we have a=s and C=B, hence opposite sides are 
parallel. Q. E. D. 

I have endeavored, in this short article, to give my readers a 
slight insight into this subject, and I think that there is nothing 
so well fulfills the expression of the proverb, "Great oaks from 
little acorns grow," as this, for it was from the attempt to 
geometrize the algebraic imaginary \T~J that has opened 

this new field for investigators. 



I give this month two problems for solution; solvers will 

please direct their solutions to Edw. E. Magovern, Stevens 

Institute, Hoboken, N. Y. 

■»r , / The square of x-f-y=5(l) \ to solve by Quadratics or 
\ The square of y-f-x=3(2) J Higher Equations. 

-pr n / The cube of x+the cube of y=351. 
\ xy=14, to be solved by Quadratics. 


Dear Sister Euterpe : — I regret that Mercury in his last 
circuit found me unprepared with the letter you perhaps ex- 
pected from me. Many are the things going on around me, the 
description of which might entertain you ; this being the busiest 
season of the devotees of your Art of Music. But I too have 
been so busy in my own employment, that I had no opportunity 
to write. I must therefore give up waiting upon Father Time 
and make him serve me for an hour or so, by stopping short 
while I pen you a little scroll, lest you should think I am for- 
getting you ; for I have somewhat to tell you of. 

I happened in a recent ramble to enter one of the concert- 
rooms of the city, and was tempted to linger and listen to a 
musical entertainment, given by the New York Vocal Union, 
under the leadership of a gray-haired votary of yours, who in his 
old age still keeps young in his love for Music. With a faltering 
step he came upon the stage ; but his head was still erect, and his 
eye full of the fire of eloquence in the Soul-language in which he 
was about to speak. The choral band numbered above sixty, and 
was supported by an efficient organist, pianist, violinist, and 

The concert-room is named Chickering Hall, after one of the 
greatest makers, as you know, of the modern lyre, — that sweet 
instrument which of old I was wont to hear you play upon with 


such delight. It is interesting to me, as I glance down the cen- 
turies of the great World-Drama, to observe how Mortals have 
applied the ingenuity of their minds to improve the ancient form 
of the Lyre. For you alone, by your superhuman skill, could by 
playing upon it in its primal shape bring out its full power and 
rich sweetness of tone. They first enlarged it, added many 
strings, and placed its pedestal upon the ground, in the form of the 
Harp. Not content with this, they raised it up and placed it on 
its side, supporting upon feet ; and thus produced the Dulcimer. 
They then applied to it the Key-board of the organ, and struck 
the strings with the clucking quills of the Clavichord. Next it 
received the damper, and with the addition of other contrivances 
to make the harmony more distinct, became the Spinet, or Harp- 
sichord. At length the quills were changed to hammers, and the 
mutable instrument finally reached the form of the Pianoforte. 
From that time on, the makers gradually improved its shape, 
size and material in various ways, until at last men have turned 
the ancient Lyre into the grand Piano of the present day. By 
all these mechanical aids, they now produce tones from it that 
nearly equal the perfection of your immortal touch ! This is 
but another illustration of what I remarked in my last letter to 
you, — the efforts of the human mind to overcome material obsta- 
cles. But in no case has their Promethean patience and perse- 
verence been so nobly displayed, as in the production of the 

Chickering Hall, the name of which has provoked this long 
digression, is a very model of a music-auditorium. It is neither 
too long nor too short, too broad nor too narrow, too low nor too 
high. Even the arrangement of the seats, — in a graceful arc, 
row behind row rising in a gentle slope, and the seats in the low, 
horseshoe-shaped gallery similarly placed, — seems to put every- 
one at ease, and in a good humor. The audiences are almost in- 
variably goodnatured, if not enthusiastic, and the most timid 
debutante could wish for no better place in which to appear, to 
ensure a hearty and indulgent reception. The hall is provided 
with a fine Roosevelt Organ, in three sections, one on each side of 


the stage, and the third an echo-organ above the ceiling of the 
room, where through a circle of open work proceed, at the will 
of the organist, distant strains of the flute, celeste, and a vox- 
humana which is a wonderful imitation of a hidden choir of 
human voices. An exquisite-toned Chickering Grand Piano 
stands upon the stage, brim-full of delightful capabilities ; and I 
felt that I could not fail to enjoy the performance, even before 
I looked at the programme. 

The Concert opened with a joyous chorus, a Hunting Song by 
Benedict, sparkling with all the sunlight of a dewy May morning. 

The following quartette, " Lady, arise ! Sweet Morn's Awak- 
ing," by Smart, was of the same gleeful nature ; and brought to 
mind a vision of some shepherd lad, with happy face shining in 
the first rays of the rising sun, singing beneath the window of his 
slumbering sweetheart, and inviting her to an early stroll among 
the fields blinking with the still sleepy daisies ! Then came a 
Madrigal which we might fancy the merry pair singing as they 
trip along hand in hand : 

" Hark ! how the birds on every bloomy spray, 
With joyous music wake the dawning day. 
Why sit we mute when early linets sing — 
When warbling Philomel salutes the Spring?" 

A charming beginning for a musical entertainment, think you 
not, sister mine ? 

The conductor then led forward a tall, slender youth with 
broad, open brow, and flowing hair, who performed upon the 
violin, in the most approved style, Paganini's arrangement of 
Rossini's " Di Tanti Pulpiti." With careless ease he executed 
all the customary violin gymnastics of the virtuoso; and being 
encored, played a simple Scotch air, and then in a series of varia- 
tions showed us how much a good melody can be racked and 
tortured without being annihilated. Finally, to show how 
lightly he regarded the foolish music he had been performing, 
and to indicate his estimate of an audience which could enjoy 
such trash, he closed the last variation with an exquisitely deli- 


cate, long-drawn note up in the highest harmonies, — and sud- 
denly executing a ridiculous pizzicato cadenza which transformed 
the violin into a vulgar banjo, bowed until his long hair almost 
touched the floor, and vanished like a daddy-long-legs, as he was ! 

Far different were the emotions which the next selection, 
Mendelsshon's Cantata " Lauda Sion," awoke in my heart. Now 
we heard not the buoyancy of the madrigal, nor the flippancy of 
the violin arpeggio, but the grandeur and beauty, the richness 
and glory of the Oratorio. Solos, quartettes and choruses rang 
out the praise of God, in devotional harmony and melody such 
as none but a master like Mendelsshon could produce. This 
work especially displays his power in the use of the Chorale, 
much of the score being in that style. It was well rendered, and 
must be reckoned the chief effort of the evening. 

The second part of the programme opened with a Chorus by 
Sullivan, "Say, Watchman, What of the Night?" This was 
plain and good, being a question by the male voices, answered by 
the full chorus, and so on in alternation ; and all in Sullivan's 
best style of composition. The next numbers were: Song, "I 
Love my Love," by S. P. Warren, pleasing, but without much 
purpose : Male Chorus, " O World, Thou art so Wondrous 
Fair," a very pretty glee ; Scena ed Aria, from Faust, " Dear Gift 
of my Sister," rendered in good style by Professor Alberto 

This brought us to the closing number, a Chorus by Schubert, 
entitled " Laughing and Crying." It was a well selected piece 
to conclude with. Its name strikes the key-note of its character ; 
and the free and perfect grace with which the laughing motive 
is handled, manifested at once the greatness of the genius of this 
apostle of your Art, one of the Golden Age of Music. Even in the 
treatment of so light a subject as this sparkling glee, Schubert 
shows his superiority over the ability of the lesser composers 
whose works formed the bulk of the programme. In spite of 
their beauty, these all made one feel the restraint of the fetters 
of Pule ; but what to them were iron gyves, were to the master 
Schubert a shining cincture of gold, and hung about his neck an 
ornament, and not a chain of slavery ! 


You may be sure I thoroughly enjoyed the " Laughing and 
Crying;" and when the concert was over, I left the hall with 
many a- backward glance of regret. I hope ere long to find other 
such pleasant things to tell about, and I promise you my loving 
efforts to write soon again. A sister's greeting to the fair Pierian 
Maids ! Very faithfully, 



Logic has been called the Grammar of Thought, for it teaches 
ns not how to think, but how we do think; it is the "Science of 
the necessary laws of Pure Thought." But, in order to think we 
must have something to think of; and this something, which we 
call knowledge, is obtained first through the senses ; and it is by 
comparing the intuitions thus received, subtracting and adding 
marks or qualities, that we obtain a conception or knowledge of 
a class of objects. This we immediately stamp with a name, 
thus fixing it in our minds. We think, therefore, in classes. 

But we should never be able to communicate our thoughts to 
one another if there were not some laws in accordance with which 
all men think, and these laws we find ; though, of course, owing 
to the great differences and varieties of the human intellect, they 
are few and meagre in order that they may apply to all. We have, 
in fact, but two ; " All thought must be consistent with itself," and 
" All thought must be consequent." The first law, which is the 
only one necessary for analytic thought, may be explicated into 
the three rules of Identity, Non-Contradiction, and Excluded 
Middle. These laws we find very useful in the formation of 
judgments. Before continuing, we must distinguish between 
judgment and a judgment. By judgment we mean that act of 
mind by which we affirm or deny the agreement of one concept 

♦Selected from the examination papers of the Logic Class at the close of 
the term in July. 


with another; and by a judgment is meant the statement of this 
affirmation or negation. 

Judgments have quantity, quality and relation. They are 
universal or particular in quantity according as the predicate is 
affirmed or denied of the whole, or of a part of the subject ; 
affirmative or negative in quality as the predicate is affirmed, or 
is denied of the subject ; and superior, inferior or co-ordinate 
when compared in a hierachy. A categorical judgment is a 
simple statement, and a conditional is one with a condition at- 
tached ; but the latter, which at first sight might seem compound 
can easily be reduced to a simple form. 

According to Aristotle there are only four possible forms for a 
judgment, and to these he gave the name of A, universal affirm- 
ative ; E, universal negative ; I, particular affirmative ; O, par- 
ticular negative. 

This system of Aristotle's is founded on the thorough-going 
quantification of the subject. Hamilton invented another method 
in which he thoroughly quantified the predicate ; but this is only 
expressing in words what is clearly entertained in the thought, 
and the only case in which we make much use of the Hamilto- 
nian method is in the matter of conversion. It is with judg- 
ments that we deal in reasoning — not with the matter, however, 
but with the form ; and in this form we deal with a subject, 
predicate and copula, which last must always be in the present 
tense of the verb to be ; for, though the things thought of may 
be past or future, the mind is acting in the present and can only 
act then. We distinguish in logic between two kinds of reason- 
ing, Mediate and Immediate. By immediate, we mean without 
a medium or third term. In this reasoning we gain no new 
knowledge, but simply change the form of an assertion already 
made ; and this change may be effected in three ways, by Infini- 
tation, by Opposition, and by Conversion. To express what we 
mean by infinitation, we will divide the universe into two classes ; 
one, (that of which we are speaking,) we will call A, and the 
other, which contains all objects outside of A, will be called 
not-A. A will necessarily be finite, compared with not- A, which 


will be infinite. To change the infinitation of an object, we would 
take it out of the class A and put it in the class not- A, or vice 
versa: as "This man is just ;" changing the infinitation, "This man 
is not unjust." The meaning remains the same. The second 
method is by opposition, it may exist between judgments of the 
same quantity, but different quality, as between the contraries A 
and E ; or between judgments differing in both quality and quan- 
tity, as between the contradictories A and O, E and I ; also be- 
tween the sub-contraries I and O, and between the subaltern A 
and I, E^nd O. Conversion is of three kinds, simple, per acci- 
dens, and by contraposition. Simple conversion exists between 
E and E, I and I, because in E both subject and predicate are 
fully distributed and may, therefore, change places ; and in I 
both subject and predicate are particular. Conversion per acci- 
dens exists between A and I, E and O, judgments of like quality 
but unlike quantity ; and Contraposition exists between A and E, 
I and O, judgments of like quantity, but unlike quality. 

It is necessary to understand Immediate reasoning before we 
go on to the Mediate or Syllogistic, otherwise called Dialectics, in 
which, however, Logic proper consists. By "reasoning medi- 
ately," we mean reasoning through a medium, a third or middle 
term ; for "In so far," says Aristotle, "as the other terms of a 
syllogism agree or disagree with this third term, in just so far do 
they agree or disagree with each other." This canon, as it is 
called, may be explicated into six rules for the syllogism : I. A 
syllogism must contain three judgments and no more : II. A 
syllogism must contain three terms and no more : III. The mid- 
dle term must be distributed in at least one of the premises. IV. 
From two negatives no conclusion can be drawn : V. No term 
must be distributed in the conclusion which was not distributed 
in the premises : VI. When one of the premises is negative the 
conclusion must be negative. The name major premise is given 
to that judgment in the syllogism which contains the major term ; 
the minor premise to the one containing the minor term. In 
both premises the third term must appear ; but in the conclusion 
only the minor term, its subject, and the major term, its predicate, 


As, in Grammar, verbs have mood and tense, so, in Logic, syl- 
logisms have mood and figure. Their figure is determined by 
the position of the middle term, and accordingly we have four 
figures. In the first the middle term is the subject of the major 
premise and predicate of the minor. In the second, it is predi- 
cate of both. In the third, subject of both. In the fourth, predi- 
cate of the major and subject of the minor premise. This last 
figure is very seldom used. The mood of a syllogism depends on 
the quantity and quality of its judgments. There are sixty-four 
possible combinations of the four judgments A, E, I, O, taking 
them by threes ; but, as the conclusion must follow from the 
premises since it only expresses what is already contained in 
them, we need only take them by twos, and this gives us eight 
valid moods, moods which violate none of the rules laid down for 
syllogisms. But of these only certain ones can be used in the 
different figures ; four in the first, four in the second, six in the 
third and five in the fourth. There are rules governing these 
moods in each figure ; but, with the help of the ingenious mne- 
nonic arrangement composed by the Schoolmen, we can at any 
time, discover them and need not burden our memories with them. 
For instance, in the moods of the first figure, AA, EA, AI, EI, 
we can readily see, that the major premise must be universal, and 
the minor, affirmative. 

Thus far, we have spoken only of Categorical syllogisms ; but 
it is through the Conditional that the ordinary reasoning of every- 
day life is carried on. We divide the Conditional into three 
classes: Hypothetical, Disjunctive and Dilemmatic. In these 
the condition is attached only to the major premise, the other 
judgments, (for in the Disjunctive and the Dilemmatic syllogism 
there can be any number J and the conclusion must be categorical : 
if the doubt were carried through the syllogism we should not be 
able to draw any conclusion. The form of the Hypothetical is, 
If A is B, C is D ; A is B, .". C is D ; of the Disjunctive, A is 
either B or C, A is B, .". it is not C ; of the Dilemmatic or horned 
syllogism, so called from the many tossings from one premise to 
another, If A is B, C is either D or E, A is B and C is D, .'. it is 


not E. The Hypothetical syllogism has two moods, the modus 
ponens, or mood of affirming, and the modus tollens, or mood of 
denying. The Disjunctive has also two, the modus ponendo tollens, 
denying by affirming, and the modus tollendo ponens, or affirming 
by denying. The Dilemmatic makes use of all four. 

Though Logic treats of syllogisms in the perfect state, that is 
with all their parts, yet in the ordinary reasoning of life we find 
one or other of these parts suppressed ; and from these Enthy- 
memes, as they are called, we form a whole chain of reasoning, 
to which the name of Sorites is given. With this ends the study 
of syllogisms or Logic Proper. Applied Logic deals with the 
matter of thought, and shows us what fallacies or instances of 
unsound reasoning may occur. Logic is a most important study, 
if only for the mental training it gives ; and though it was misused 
for a long while in the universities, it has now quite regained its 
former dignity ; and with a very few slight improvements, the sys- 
tem remains the same as that taught in the fourth century B. C. 



PAPER No. 2. 

I have a very pleasant task to perform this evening, young 
ladies; that is to speak on a very delightful theme to an audience 
from whom I feel sure of a kind reception, and in whom I am 
deeply interested — I mean my Art Class. I hope that I shall 
not abuse your goodness, and try your patience by detaining you 
too long, but you are aware that when we begin to talk about 
things which interest us very much, we find it right hard to stop. 
Sometimes when my girls are together in the evening I think 
they experience this difficulty themselves — at least it seems to 
me that they pass some very beautiful stopping-places without 
knowing it, and perhaps I shall do the same thing to-night, but 


if I do, I hope you will forgive me on account of our common 
weakness in this direction. 

The consideration of subjects connected with the study of Art 
will perhaps fail to be attractive to some of you, because it intro- 
duces you into a new field of thought and research — one which 
is unexplored, and therefore a little formidable, but which will 
prove more and more fascinating as you go farther on. 

It is very difficult for an Art student to see much beyond the 
position which he has attained by his own study. 

His progress advances him from one point to another, and the 
view continually widens before him. It is like climbing a moun- 
tain. As you ascend, and the road winds around the successive 
spurs and ridges leading to the main height, you first have a view 
of the valley beneath with its surrounding hills, where the quiet 
homes are nestled among the trees, and yon see the curling smoke 
going up in the fresh morning air. 

The mountain tops still tower above you, and a little brook 
falls over the ledges of rock by the road-side, and makes bubbling 
music that keeps time to the songs of birds in the tree-tops. A 
little farther on and you lose sight of the homes in the valley, 
and the rugged peaks come nearer, and nearer ; but this is not 
all you seek ; we go higher yet, so you toil on up the winding 
road ; going round a cliff on the right, and under arching firs on 
the left, and close by the edge of a frightful precipice where you 
look off into dark ravines lying far below ; and now there is an 
opening higher up, and, yes, we see now — and we look far away 
on the blue, blue mountains, the peaceful, lovely mountains, 
receding, like waves, and growing dimmer and dimmer in the 

There to the east you see one solitary point with faint clear 
outline against the sky, and far away to the south a plain that 
extends and mingles with the pale warm clouds that tell where 
lies the distant horizon. 

But this is only a peep ; we must go higher still, we are in- 
spired now by the fresh, invigorating mountain air that comes up 
over those innumerable tree-tops, and so we go on, and on, up, 
and up, and care no longer to linger by the way. The little 


brook is now far down below, and the bare cliffs of rock are all 
around us. Our feet stumble over the twisted roots of fir-trees, 
and sink in beds of velvet moss, and now we begin to climb in 
real earnest, it is hard work now, as we cling to rocks, and pull 
ourselves up by trees, and roots, and branches of hardy laurel, 
but we are never going to give up here — we only stop to breathe — 
and oh, what air we breathe ! No one can be long weary in such 
a breeze as this. So fresh, so sweet, it ripples over you and 
bathes you with refreshing coolness, that you are ready to believe 
its exhilarating, life-giving power will realize the dreams of a 
fountain of youth. 

Still a little higher, and we stand on a bare rock — a huge grey 
mass of granite, a pinnacle that crowns the highest point of the 
mountain — all is still — at our feet are the tops of the waving, 
whispering fir-trees ; beneath us are the valleys, and dark forests, 
but so far below that a veil of blue interposes between — around 
■us is — what ? The sky, the pure blue sky, we seem now to have 
left the earth, and to be lifted up into the stillness, the beauty 
and holy solitude of the heavens. Involuntarily we grasp the 
slender mountain shrub which has found a foot-hold in the deep 
crevices and cling to it as if the rock-bound mountain were a 
floating ship that would carry us off, and lose us in the viewless 
waves of the upper deep. 

And now we see — yes our range of vision seems boundless, 
and we almost need new powers of sight to take in this wonder- 
ful panorama, but it is impossible for any description to paint 
such beauty because it is in Nature something which we feel even 
more than we see, and words cannot do more than faintly recall 
the impression. I might write a volume, and yet fail to give you 
any idea of the loveliness of one single cloud-shadow that is float- 
ing slowly over the undulating hills, and changing the tints of 
sunlight into lovely tones of violet and blue. 

But we will remember that beauty such as this is seen and en- 
joyed only from a great height, and so you will find in all Aes- 
thetic study that you must do some climbing before yon can enjoy 
the reward. 

Only from a height can the eye take in so much of grandeur, 


and sublimity, and only from a height can the mind's eye, and 
the soul's eye ever enjoy the beauty of that world of Art which 
holds so many treasures for ^he loving heart that has not feared 
the toils of the way. 

But this climbing is not all effort, and work, by any means, 
almost every step reveals new beauties, and the very thought of 
going upward is an inspiration and a stimulus. The study of 
Music, Poetry, Painting, and sculpture calls into exercise the 
highest powers of the mind, and tends directly to elevate, and 
perfect those rarer faculties which seem to belong more especially 
to our spiritual Nature. The more these higher plains of culture 
and development are reached, and become the peculiar home of 
the mind, the more will the spiritual nature gain ascendency over 
that which is of the earth, earthy ; and surely no one will con- 
tend that we should ignore our birth-right of immortality, and 
live only for the material life whose belongings perish with 

The power of seeing true beauty, and of loving it and enjoying 
it, belongs to the refined and elevated mind ; the power of creat- 
ing it is born with the strong pure soul that can wing its un- 
wearied flight to the mountain tops and dwell in the purer air. 

But, to return to what immediately concerns us ; there is more 
to be gained in our work than mere appreciation of beauty, 
though that is a source of inexhaustible pleasure, — our Art- 
study tends to develope what it requires, and therefore we will 
consider some of the things which you will require in order to 
be successful Art-students, and then we will know what habits of 
mind are likely to be formed, and what dispositions encouraged. 

In the first place one most indispensable requisite is love of 
Truth, or to express it in a more limited sense, correctness. In 
the conscientious Art-student this love of truth grows continually. 
He is not satisfied with careless and inaccurate out-lines ; he 
will not be contented with false lights and shadows ; the glaring 
opposition of colors distresses him, and he seeks everywhere for 
the true harmony that is seen in Nature. He seeks her perfect 
and beautiful modeling of forms, her exquisite gradations of 
light and shade, her lovely harmonies of color, and, pervading 


all things, her infinite repose. This study of the beautiful as 
exhibited in the works of God, is a climbing upward which we 
surely cannot think is labor lost. We are learning to distinguish 
the false from the true, and to trace the source of true beauty to 
the fountain head of all blessing and all perfection. 

Another important thing, and indeed another indispensable, 
and necessary thing, is a habit of close attention, a concentration 
of the mind on its work, and a perfect clearness of thought. Be- 
cause we must have clearness of conception— there must be no 
vagueness, and confusion in your ideal of what must be done. 
Your success depends upon your correct, and truthful representa- 
tion of your models, whether you find them in Nature, or in Art, 
and you can work only from a mental conception or picture 
which you form in your own mind by close study of your original. 
How can you make a thing without knowing what you are mak- 
ing ? There can be no carelessness here. 

You cannot sit down idly, and slide your pencil from left to 
right, and from right to left, and suppose that you will make a 

That picture must exist in your own imagination first, or it 
will never appear on your drawing-paper. Now without atten- 
tion of mind that mental picture can never be formed. 

The water must be clear, and still that reflects as in a mirror, 
the trees and sky above it, and a pebble thrown in destroys at 
once the stillness, and the reflection. 

Just so all sorts of idle distractions sometimes come into your 
minds, and the poor pencil soo"n loses itself among a confusion of 
lines and zigzags, and the result is something that would puzzle 
the old Egyptians. 

Then again, you need courage, and decision. Perhaps this 
has not occurred to you, but when an Art-student reaches the 
more difficult problems of his Art, and depends more and more 
upon the efforts of his own imagination ; he must learn to act 
promptly, and decidedly. 

Beautiful visions are revealed to him, but do you think they 
will wait for him while he hesitates and timidly doubts as to how 
he shall put them on his canvas? Not at all. Down they must 


go while yet they shine in all their color and freshness. They 
are as fleeting as the rainbow which fades from the clouds while 
we watch it. 

Now if you are to be Artists, and catch the delicate beauty of 
earth and sky ; you must strive to learn this quickness, and deci- 
sion — and if you strive earnestly, you will certainly attain to it 
in some degree — a quickness born of ready thought, and impa- 
tient of idle dalliance. The habitof prompt thought, and prompt 
action is certainly valuable in many ways, for we know that the 
Human Will is the great motive power in our life, as Electricity 
is said by some to be the soul of the Material Universe ; but it is 
the ready will, the prompt will, the decided mind that acts while 
the wavering one hesitates and loses the ascendency. The bird 
whose wings are plumed for flight will be far on his way while 
some slow-moving companion still hovers in the air, and lingers 
on uncertain pinions, ready to be borne down by the passing 
breeze . 

With many people this fashion of lingering, and hovering over 
everything they have to decide on, or to do, is merely a matter 
of habit, but I do not deny that knowledge is also necessary to 
make decision valuable. You must know where you are going 
before you can go there, either slowly or quickly, and this climb- 
ing, in your art study is to show you what you are aiming at. 
The higher you climb, the more clearly you will see your way. 
You cannot stand at the bottom and tell us what is seen from the 
top ; we don't want your report unless you have been there, — it 
is useless to try to give it to us. So one of the best rules in paint- 
ing is to paint what you know, and thoroughly understand. The 
pleasure we feel is not so much in the thing you picture for us, 
as in the manner in which you represent it. So if you will pause 
in your climbing, and study for us the little brook among the 
trees, and if you will paint it with something of its own gladness, 
and freshness, we will thank you, and linger over it until we 
fancy we hear again its rippling waters. Or even if you will 
seat yourself, under the arching rhododendrons, near that little 
mossy bank, which is so fragrant with the sweet smell of leaves 
and earth, you will see there a tiny vine with leaves most daintily 


penciled, and flowers like pure white stars, so sweet, so small, so 
perfect. If you will picture that for us, lovingly, tenderly, beau- 
tifully, we will welcome it as breath from the forest glades, and 
it will speak to us as plainly of its mountain home as if we too 
could find it in its shady retreat. 

Oh what a wealth of beauty there is if we only learn to see ! 
What visions that come to brighten our days of joy, what lovely 
dreams that illumine our nights of pain and sad unrest ! Every- 
where God rests us, and gladdens us with this beauty ; it is our 
fault if we fail to be made happier by it. Our daily life may be 
full of care while we say continually " What shall we eat ? and 
what shall we drink? and wherewithal shall we be clothed?" 
But if we will sometimes turn aside, with the Poet and the Artist, 
to watch the unfolding of the wayside flowers, we may at least 
learn that " even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like 
one of these." 10. 


The following verses, cut out of a newspaper, afford a curious 
illustration of how far the pronunciation of some English names 
has drifted away from the spelling. If the name at the end of 
the first line of each verse be pronounced correctly, there will 
be no difficulty in reading the whole verse, in spite of the queer 
spelling of some of the other words : 

There was a young fellow named Cholmondeley. 
Who certainly acted quite dolmondely. 

When his girl said "Amuse me," 

He stammered " Excuse me," 
And then he apologized holmondeley. 

His friend said his first name was Beauchamp, 
(To pronounce it you never can teauchamp,) 

He resided at Greenwich, 

And lived upon speenwich 
And artichokes when he could reauchamp. 



In the halcyon times to come, always supposing that the 
Music of the Future is not already finding its place among the 
Discords of the Past, the operatic composer is to provide his own 
libretto ; he is to be at once poet and musician ; no literary mid- 
dleman, adjutant, or interpreter may step between him and his 
applauding audience. The great musicians of old, it must be 
confessed, were scarcely qualified to shine as men of letters. 
Profound students of the intricacies of their art, both theoretical 
and practical, their education otherwise was often deplorably de- 
ficient. The illustrious Beethoven has been accused of clothing 
his aesthetic thoughts in the language of 'illiterate awkwardness;' 
Mozart could boast little learning but of a professional sort ; and 
the notion of connecting the idea of a thinker with good old 
'Papa Haydn,' who, we are told, used to mumble 'aves' when 
inspiration failed him in his task of composing the ' Creation,' 
has been ridiculed as ' grotesquely incongruous.' Of course in 
later times the general rise in the tide of education has reached 
the musicians, and evidences of increase of literary capability on 
their part have not been lacking. Mendelssohn's graceful fluency 
of style is manifest in his private correspondence. Schumann 
enjoyed a university education, and was for many years the 
editor of a musical journal before he acquired fame as a com- 
poser ; upon the literary cultivation of the Abbe* Liszt there is 
little need to dwell. But when poet-musicians or musician-poets 
are under mention it is always with special reference to Herr 
Richard Wagner and his achievements. For in popular estima- 
tion he stands alone as the composer who has habitually and 
systematically supplied his music with its words, his operas with 
their books. 

It is overlooked, perhaps, that what is called Wagnerism is not 
so much a system as a man ; that its existence depends upon the 
survival of one who must soon ]}e counted among septuagena- 


rians. Let it be granted that the veteran composer has fully and 
admirably carried into action his theory that the sister arts of 
music and poetry should combine in opera, mutually supporting 
and enhancing each other, and that stage mechanism and scenic 
splendor should also aid to the utmost the general effect ; who, 
when Wagner has ceased to ride the lyric whirlwind and direct 
the historic storm, will succeed to his place, continue his efforts, 
and fulfil his duties ? Are there any shoulders ready and fitted 
to receive his mantle as it falls from the skies ? Will it not 
rather, unowned, unclaimed, sink to earth and lie soiled and un- 
heeded in the kennel, or like a lost balloon, rent by the winds, 
be completely carried away and lost in outer space ? 

Richard Wagner's earliest efforts as a dramatic author were 
made in his boyhood, when he was a rather unpromising pupil, 
thirteen years of age, of the Kreuzschule, at Dresden. He had 
been studying English, in order to understand Shakespeare; the 
result, we are told, was an enormous tragedy, a kind of compound 
of ' Hamlet ' and ' King Lear.' As the author writes of his own 
production: 'I had murdered forty-two people in the course of 
my piece, and was obliged to let most of them reappear as ghosts 
in the last acts for want of living characters.' Apparently he 
made no attempt to compose appropriate music for this prodigi- 
ous work. Of his early operas little now seems to be known, 
nor is it clear that at this time he invariably penned their books. 
His opera 'Das Liebesverbot,' founded upon Shakespeare's 
' Measure for Measure,' was performed but once, at Magdeburg, 
' without due preparation or marked success.' He regarded this 
work, we are told, as ' the ultimate result of the sensual fermen- 
tation of his storm-and-stress period, but not without a germ of 
purer artistic aims.' 

Envy of the success of Meyerbeer brought with it some relax- 
ation of the poet-composer's theories, or, as yet, these possessed 
him but imperfectly. He meditated an opera in the Meyerbeer 
manner, to be produced upon the stage of the Paris Grand 
Opera, with a libretto by M. Scribe, Meyerbeer's libretliste. To 
Scribe, therefore, he addressed himself, sending him the plan or 


sketch of an important lyric drama, founded upon Koenig's 
romance of ' Die Hohe Braut,' asking him to write it out in 
French verse at the composer's expense, and to take the neces- 
sary measures to ensure its performance in due course at the 
Grand Opera. To this extraordinary application Scribe sent no 
reply. The name of Richard Wagner was entirely unknown to 
him. He probably deemed the strange musician either very im- 
pudent or very crazy. Forthwith Wagner began upon an 
opera book for himself. He dramatised Lord Lytton's novel of 
' Rienzi,' a work then enjoying much popularity. The libretto 
was of unambitious quality, displaying, as Dr. Hueffer describes 
it, 'a good deal of that slovenliness in diction and versification 
which the good-natured public of the Grand Opera is used to 
tolerate.' 'Rienzi' completed, the composer carried it to Paris, 
furnished with letters of introduction from Meyerbeer to the thea- 
trical managers. Paris, however, would have nothing to do with 
'Rienzi.' Wagner's mission ended disastriously. He was, in- 
deed, driven almost to the brink of starvation, compelled to the 
most humiliating tasks of musical drudgery in order to earn the 
scantiest of livelihoods. In his curious novelette, 'The End of 
a Musician in Paris/ he has related with much grim humor his 
troubles and distresses at this period of his career. ' Rienzi ' was 
afterwards produced at Dresden, in 1842, and with considerable 
success, although the best that may now be said for ' Rienzi ' is 
perhaps that it might easily be taken for a bad opera by Meyer- 
beer. For Wagner commenced by admiring and imitating Mey- 
erbeer, who had indeed shown much kindness to the young and 
aspiring composer. In the 4 end, however, Wagner conceived a 
strange aversion for his former exemplar, condemning his com- 
positions with unjustifiable bitterness. *A psychological expla- 
nation of this acrimony has been found in the fact that Wagner's 
first effort as a composer ' moved in the sphere of Meyerbeer and 
Hatevy'; and that from his later point of view those youthful 
errings and strayings seemed to demand deep reprehension and 
sincere repentence ; he duly proceeded, therefore, to damn the 
sins he was no longer inclined to, and unreservedly denounced 


his benefactor, Meyerbeer, as ' the most despicable music-manu- 
facturer of the period.' 

Opinions may vary touching the merits of Wagner's music, 
but the excellence of his opera-books deserves to be universally 
recognized. It may chance, indeed, that Wagner will be read 
as an author long after the world has grown weary of listening 
to him as a composer. His libretto of 'Der Fliegende Hollan- 
der" derived from Heine, who was inspired by Fitzball, who 
borrowed from an anonymous writer in ' Blackwood's Magazine,' 
may be counted among the best of opera-books — ' a little master- 
piece,' as Spohr described it, regretting that, for his own part, he 
had never met with so good a libretto to set to music. When 
Wagner had completed ' Der Fliegende Hollander,' he offered it 
to the directors of the Grand OpeVa, Paris, with a suggestion that 
the text should be translated into French by a competent writer. 
The directors declined ' Der Fliegende Hollander ' as they had 
declined ' Rienzi ;' yet they did not fail to note the genuine 
worth of Wagner's libretto. Indeed, they rejected the score 
while they retained the poem — ' purchased it for 500 francs/ 
says one account ; ' stole it,' says another. They were rash 
enough, however, to entrust the book to the chorus-master of their 
theatre, M. Dietsch, a composer of very inferior quality, whose 
opera 'Le Vaisseau Fantome,' produced November 9, 1842, 
failed completely. The production of 'Der Pliegende Hollan- 
der ' in its integrity, with the original music of Herr Wagner, 
would certainly have been at once more enterprising and more 

Wagner obtained no hearing in Paris until 1861, when his 
' Tannhauser ' was produced at the Grand Opdra. Considerable 
difficulty had attended the translation into French of this most 
picturesque of opera-books, with its poetic sentiment and signifi- 
cance, its contrast of characters, impressive incidents, and grand 
situations. The task was entrusted to Edmond Roche, a young 
French poet, essayist, and critic; a musician, moreover, who 
played the violin skillfully, and had been accounted one of Ha- 
beneck's most promising pupils at the Conservatoire. A fervent 


admirer of Berlioz, Roche regarded Wagner with real enthusi- 
asm. That Roche should be charged to translate Wagner seemed 
a most appropriate and felicitous arrangement. Roche, at this 
time, however, knew little of ce terrible homme, as he learnt 
afterwards to designate the famous composer. M. Sardou, who 
supplied a biographical notice of Roche when his posthumous 
poems came to be published in 1863, writes that the poor trans- 
lator devoted a whole year of labour, 'le plus assidu, le plus ex- 
tenuant,' to the adaptation of the German text to the French 
operatic stage. Roche was fairly overwhelmed and crushed by 
the weight of the task he had undertaken. He has given an ac- 
count of one of his days with Wagner : — 

' He came at seven in the morning ; we were at work without 
rest or respite until midday. I was bent over my desk, writing, 
erasing, " cherchant la fameuse syllabe qui devait correspondre 
a la fameuse note, sans cesser neanmoins d'avoir le sens com- 
mun ;" he was erect, pacing to and fro, bright of eye, vehement 
of gesture, striking the piano, shouting, singing, forever bidding 
me, " Go on ! go on !" An hour or even two hours after noon, 
hungry and exhausted, I let fall my pen. I was in a fainting 
state. " What's the matter ?" he asked. " I am hungry." " True 
— I had forgotten all about that ; let us have a hurried snack, 
and go on again." Night came and found us still at work. I 
was shattered, stupified. My head burned; my temples throb- 
bed ; I was half mad with my wild search after strange words to 
fit the strange music ; he was erect still, vigorous and fresh as 
when we commenced our toil, walking up and down, striking his 
infernal piano, terrifying me at last, as I perceived dancing about 
me on every side his eccentric shadow cast by the fantastic reflec- 
tions of the lamp, and crying to me ever, like one of Ploffmann's 
creations, " Go on ! go on !" while trumpeting in my ears caba- 
listic words and supernatural music' 

Poor M. Roche ! He had some reason to complain. Wagner 
seems to have scornfully used him, and sought afterwards the 
assistance of another translator. The ' Tannhauser ' met with a 
most unfavorable reception ; it was nearly hissed from the stage. 


The opera obtained but three representations in Paris, and the 
name of Edmund Roche was not allowed to appear upon the pro- 
gramme. Poor Edmond Eoehe ! 

The world, unkind to him in his lifetime., seems even now, 
when he has been dead ten years, insufficiently to esteem the 
memory of Hector Berlioz, fairly to be viewed as the avant- 
coureur, almost as the prototype, of Wagner, skilled both as author 
and composer. Berlioz wrote criticisms of a fierce and aggres- 
sive sort, and provided the book of his own opera, ' Les Troyens.' 
Of his first opera, ' Benvenuto Cellini,' he merely selected the 
theme, seeking the aid of his friends, Leon de Wailly and Au- 
guste Barbier, to prepare for him the libretto. It was generally 
held that the subject was unpromising for dramatic purposes, and 
that the playwrights had produced an ineffective work. Berlioz 
was quite satisfied, however, and to the last maintained, staunchly 
and generously, that his opera did not fail because of its book. 
Moreover, M. Duponchel, the director of the opera in those days, 
was loud in praise of the libretto, while frankly regarding the 
composer as 'une espece de fou dont la musique n'£tait et ne 
pouvait &tre qu'un tissu d'extravagances.' To tell the truth, 
' Benvenuto Cellini ' was produced because it was the work of the 
musical critic of ' Le Journal des Debats,' an influential newspa- 
per with which M. Duponchel thought it prudent to maintain 
amicable relations. The opera failed in Paris in 1838 as com- 
pletely as it failed when presented on the stage of our Italian 
Opera, Covent Garden, in 1853. ' Benvenuto Cellini,' although 
admirably executed, was permitted but one representation, much 
interrupted towards its close by jeers and hisses. The grand 
scene of the casting of the colossal statue of Perseus was found to 
be ludicrously ineffective, and resulted in a storm of ridicule. 







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tract. All matters on business should be addressed to the 
Muse, St. Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C. 

Latin Puzzle : 

— ra 









vedi vedi 

Our " Red Riding Hood " of last year has been produced in 
Wilmington by an amateur association, and boasts of $455.00 as 
the earnings of two representations ! 

Our little " Daisy " begins to peep out in the sunny hours 
of these soft spring days. On Sunday, the first in Lent, being 
just seven weeks old, she was baptized in the Chapel by the name 
of "Margaret Harvey." She is a second edition of Baby Bessie, 
and will doubtless be as much petted and caressed as her big 
sister has ever been. 


Miss Louly Smedes left us for New Orleans, intending to 
reach that gay city in time for the festivities of Mardi Gras. 
We part with her regretfully, and hope for a repetition of her 
visit next winter. Miss Sadie Smedes, who was with us for a few 
short weeks has also left to meet some engagements with friends 
in Charlotte and Salisbury. May all joy and happiness attend 
them both. 

The old friends of Miss Ella G. Tew will be interested to 
know that she is once more an inmate of St. Mary's — this time 
in all the womanly dignity of a teacher ! We are delighted to 
have her in any capacity, and find that she is likely to fill her 
present role as acceptably as sh e did that of the school girl in the 
happy days of yore. Long may she wield her sceptre of gentle 
authority in the class-room and reign in the hearts of her young 

The January " Recital" passed off very successfully. Miss 
Blume's exquisite song — Blumenthel's Requital — was, as was to 
be expected, the gem of the programme. The next Recital will 
take place on Saturday, February 21st, when we shall be pleased 
to see any of our friends who will come informally. It is impos- 
sible to issue regular " invitations " to these monthly Soirees, 
but we believe it is generally understood that all who love music 
are cordially received. 

Our Spring Term has brought us sixteen new scholars ! We 
begin to hope that the good old ante-bellum days are coming 
back when we see every seat in the large school room occupied — 
besides the additional ones recently placed in the Primary-Class 
room. We hear whispers of great " modern improvements " for 
next year — but in what direction we vainly conjecture. (Won- 
der if the new conservatory erected by the " Department of 
Music" is the initial movement?) 

A young gentleman of Durham happened to be in Raleigh 
when "Cinderella" came off, and in blissful ignorance that there 
was " something to pay," quietly passed by the " money changer" 
at the door, and with his young lady, enjoyed the entertainment 


without a suspicion that they were involuntary "dead-heads." 
Discovering his mistake some weeks later the gentleman — we write 
the word in its higher meaning — sent his apology and his dol- 
lar ! All honor to such rare integrity — and thanks for the ad- 
dition to our net proceeds, $25 was sent to the authorities of St. 
John's Hospital as the result of our efforts in behalf of that most 
worthy charity. 

The last evening of the Term just closed was brightened by 
a visit from Bishop Lyman and his daughters, Miss Lyman and 
Miss Eoma. The Bishop, in his usual happy vein, entertained 
us with a delightful account of some of the cities of Italy, and 
other places of note, which frequent visits have made so familiar 
to him. We were particularly interested in his description of 
the beautiful home and happy life of Maximilian, the ill-starred 
and short-lived Emperor of Mexico. The burden of the royal 
crown weighed all too heavily upon that poor head, and we may 
well imagine how often the sad heart yearned for the happy life 
it had known on the shores of the laughing Adriatic. There is 
a peculiar fascination in these talks of our dear Bishop which 
ever insures him a warm welcome and an interested audience. 
Would that he could, from the multiplicity of his engagements, 
«pare us more frequent evenings. 


A prize will be given at the end of the scholastic year in June 
to any girl who, honor bright, from her own knowledge or diligent 
research, and without any other assistance whatever, shall have 
sent in the greatest number of correct answers, provided that they 
amount to three-fourths of the whole number of questions pro- 
posed in the series which she may select. The answers, whether 
from St. Mary's or other schools, must be sent in under a pseu- 
donyme, accompanied, in the first instance, by the real name, 
which will be known only to the person in charge of this depart- 


merit, addressed to " The Muse," and indorsed " Prize Questions" 
on the envelope. These are open to any school-girl from any 

It seems that some of our " Prize Questions " have attained 
the honor of being sent to the New York World for solution. 
We deem it but justice to ourselves to guard against the imputa- 
tion of copying said questions from the said paper, by calling the 
attention of our readers to the respective dates of issue of the 
Muse and the World in which questions Nos. 13, 16, and others 
taken from the Muse, Vol. II, No. 4, appeared. 

junior series. 

31. With what nation did the original story of William Tell 
take its beginning ? 

. 32. In what language was the Book of Daniel written-? 

^33. Who is supposed to have invented gunpowder, and in what*"* 

battle was it first used ? 

- 34. A noted Bishop of the 4th century disciplined a powerful 
^/monarch. Who were the individuals and why was the penance 
r inflicted ? 

35. What is meant by " The Field of the Cloth of Gold " ? 

36. What King of Great Britain was at once the 1st, 2nd, 3rd 
and 4th of his name ? 

37. Who were the Asmonean Kings, and why so called? 

t 38. What is Queen Victoria's first name, and what is her , 

family name ? 

„. 39. What books of the Bible end with precisely the same 

verses ? , 

.40. What is the value of a " mite " in United States money ? 


,■31. What led to the foundation of Venice — when^T 

32. Who was the Winter King ? 

4~33. What is a clepsydra and when was it first used ? 

34. What town is sometimes called " old Sarum " and why ? 

35. What noted ancient Queen had a celebrated philosopher 
as chief counsellor, and who was the philosopher ? 

a 36. What is the legend concerning the name of the river 

37. In whose reign and in what play did the first English 
actress appear on the stage ? 

38. What modern tale is based upon an episode in the life of 
the great Scanderbeg ? 

39. Whence did the river Severn receive its name ? 

40. Who was Toussaint L'Ouverture ? 

(Founded 1842.) 





This School now offers inducements such as have never before 
been afforded by any school in the South. 

In addition to its acknowledged PRE-EMINENCE in point of 
the special advantages claimed are : 

1st. A Corps of Twelve Teachers, carefully selected, with 
a view to fitness for their respective positions, and therefore 
thorough, efficient and enthusiastic in their work. 

2nd. A School op Languages, with eight teachers. 

English is regarded as of the first importance, and receives 
special attention in two comprehensive and thorough courses, 
Preparatory and Academic. 

Latin, by a graduate of the University of Virginia. 

French, after Sauveur's conversational method, by a French 
lady whose ability is best shown by the results of her teaching. 

German scholars have the advantage of conversation and 
reading with a highly educated native German. 

3rd. The Best Equipped Musical Department in the 
South, consisting of 16 pianos, a cabinet organ, a magnificent new 
pipe organ of 2 manuals and 20 stops — the largest for school 
purposes in the United States— and the only PEDAL PIANO south 
of New York. Eugene Thayer, the finest pedal player in this 
country, recommends its use as the only way to acquire correct 

4th. The use op Music of the Highest Order, as shown 
by the programmes of the monthly Recitals. 

5th. A Vocal Teacher, from the Royal Leipzig Conserva- 
tory. This lady possesses a beautiful soprano voice, thoroughly 
developed. As a proof of her superior cultivation, it is only 
necessary to state that she has sung in the world-renowned 
Gewandhaus concerts. 

6th. An Art Department, lately refitted with the best models 
from Europe, and under the charge of a teacher from Cooper 
Institute, who has had the additional advantage of constant study 
and practice under one of our finest artists. 

The Principal is determined that the advantages offered by St. 
Mary's in every department shall be unsurpassed. 

The 76th Term begins Friday, January 30th, 1880. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars, address the 

St. Mary's School, 


The Department of Music offers great inducements to young 
ladies wishing to obtain a thorough knowledge of music in all 
its branches. In order to meet the requirements of advanced 
organ instruction, a fine new PIPE ORGAN of TWO MANUELS and 
TWENTY STOPS has been placed in the Chapel, and the only 
Pedal Piano South of New York is at the service of organ stu- 
dents. A vocalist from the Koyal Leipzig Conservatory has been 
added to the corps of teachers, and no pains or expense will be 
spared to make this the first musical school in the South. 

Persons outside of the School can make arrangements for 
either Piano, Organ or Vocal Lessons by applying to the Director 
of Music. 






Rector of Christ Church, 

g®~ Price, Fifty Cents JPer Annum. ~®a 



Grand, Square Si Upright Fiano Forks anil Organs, 

Factoiy, Cor. St, Peter and Sterrett Sts. Warerooms, 373 w. Baltimore St, 

Opp. the Entaw House. 

These instruments have been prominently before the 
public for the last fifteen years. Their durability, 
their workmanship and their general excel- 
lence in all respects, have gained for them an unpur- 
chased pre-eminence, Constructed of the Very 
Best Material. Every Instrument fully 
guaranteed, for five years. 

For illustrated catalogue and references apply to above address. 


Established, in V7Q3. 

Is PRE-EMINENT among Southern Boarding Schools 
for Boys in AGE, NUMBERS, AREA of patronage," and (the 
Superintendent feels safe in adding) in the character and results 
of its combined civil and military DISCIPLINE. 

The catalogue for 1879 will contain more than 160 names, 
from twelve States of the Union, and South America and Asia 
are also represented. 

Board and Tuition, $110 per Session of 20 Weeks. 

For catalogue giving full particulars, address 

Maj. R. BINGHAM, Sttp't. 



On the Most Reasonable Terms. 


New Pianos, fully warranted, $225 and upwards. 

Specifications furnished for Church and Chapel Organs of any 

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Vol. II. RALEIGH, N. C, MARCH, 1880. No. 7. 



*The Elders and the Child — Poem 1 

*Two Friends — Minnie Albertson 3 

^'Higher Mathematics — Edward M. Magovern 5 

A Book of the Opera — Button Cook, in Belgravia 8 

*Blind — Translated from the German of Heyse by Miss Gabrielle 

deRosset 18 

Bach's St. Matthew Passion 22 

Beasts, Birds and Insects in Irish Folk-Lore — Lelitia 

M'ClintocJc, in Belgravia 24 

Editorial, Prize Questions, &c .... : 29 

Original articles written for the Muse are marked thus.* 


raleiqh, n. c. 


]_JJ_jJ_jj|_jJj_ Near Warrenton, Fauquier County, Va. 

40 Milks from Washington, 

Recommended for Location, Health, Morality, Scholarship and 

A first-class Virginia School, in which is taught in addition to 
the Classics, Elementary Law and Medicine. 

The Military does not interfere with School duties, and 
the officers are commissioned by the Governor of the State. 

No. of Students 117. No. Teachers 7. 

BOARD AND TUITION (Half-Session), $95.00. 

Address, for catalogue, 

HVLaj. J±. Gr. SMITH, Supt., 

BeM Academy P. 0., Faipier County, Va, 


m k 





French, English and German Perfumery, 





Importer and PuWisher of Music. 

Sole Agent for the famous EDITION PETERS, (Leipzicj 
AUGENER & CO., (London) and BREITKOPF& HAERTEL (Leipzic). 

Catalogues sent free on application. 

Besides these and my own renowned publications, I have a 
COMPLETE STOCK of all European publications and receive by 
weekly importations all the new works of celebrated Authors. 

Music sent for selection to Teachers and Seminaries on the 
most liberal terms. 

St. Mary's Muse. 

Vol. II. KALEIGH, N. C, MARCH, 1880. No. 7. 

[The following poem was sent us by a friend with the request 
that it should be published in the Muse:] 


Softly fell the touch of twilight on Judea's silent hills ; 

Slowly crept the peace of moonlight on Judea's trembling rills: 

In the Temple's court conversing seven Elders set apart ; 
Seven grand and hoary sages, wise of head and pure of heart. 

" What is rest?" said Rabbi Judah, he of stern and steadfast gaze, 
" Answer " ye whom toils have burdened through the march of 
many days. 

" To have gained," said Rabbi Ezra," decent wealth and goodly 

Without sin — by honest labor — nothing less and nothing more." 

"To have found," said Rabbi Joseph, meekness in his gentle 

" A foretaste of heaven's sweetness in home's blessed paradise." 

" To have wealth and power and glory, crowned and brightened 

by the pride 
Of uprising children's children," Kabbi Benjamin replied. 

"To have won the praise of nations — to have worn the crown of 

Rabbi Solomon responded, loyal to his kingly name. 


"To sit throned, the lord of millions, first and noblest in the 

Answered haughtily Rabbi Asher, youngest of the reverend band. 

"All in vain," said Rabbi Jarus, if not faith and hope have traced 
In the soul Mosaic precepts, by sin's contact uneffaced. 

Then uprose wise Rabbi Judah, tallest, gravest of them all ; 
" From the heights of fame and honor even valiant souls mar 

Love may fail us, Virtue's sapling grow a dry and thorny rod, 
If we bear not in our bosoms the unselfishness of God." 

In the outer court sat playing a sad featured, fair-haired child, 
His young eyes seemed wells of sorrow — they were God-like 
when he smiled. 

One by one he dropped the lilies, softly plucked by childish 

One by one he viewed the sages of that grave and hoary band. 

Step by step he neared them closer, till encircled by the seven ; 
Then he said in tones untrembling with the smile that seemed of 
heaven : 

" Nay, my fathers ! only he within the measure of whose breast 
Dwells the human love with God's love can have found life's tru- 
est rest. 

For where one is not, the other must grow stagnant at its spring, 
Changing good things into phantom, an unmeaning, soulless thing. 

Whoso holds the precepts truly, owns a jewel brighter far, 
Than the joys of home and children, than wealth, fame and glory 
are ; 

Fairer than old age, twice honored, far above tradition's law, 
Pure as any radiant vision ever ancient prophet saw. 


Only he within the measure faith-apportioned, of whose breast, 
Throbs the brother-love with God-love knows the depth of per- 
fect rest." 

Wondering gazed they at each other : " Praised be Israel ever- 
more ; 
He has spoken words of wisdom no man ever spoke before." 

Calmly passing from their presence to the fountain's rippling 

Stopped he to uplift the lilies, strew the scattered spray among. 

Faintly stole the sounds of evening through the massive outer 

door ; 
Whitely lay the peace of moonlight on the Temple's marble 


Where the Elders lingered, silent, since he spake — the Unde- 
Where the wisdom of the ages sat, amid the flowers of a child. 


A breeze, roving through a forest one bright morning in Spring, 
came suddenly upon a clear little stream that sang softly as it 
glided on, to the flowers and grasses fringing its banks, and he 
proposed that they, the breeze and the streamlet, should travel 
in company. The little stream murmured assent, and the two 
went on merrily together, making happier as they passed every 
glad living thing that rejoiced in the light and freshness of the 
beautiful day. They even ventured to sport with the grand old 
trees. The breeze would sway their branches and whisper gaily 
to the laughing leaves, while the little stream below bathed 
gently their scarred and knotted roots with her cool, soft fingers. 


In the course of their wanderings, while passing through an 
open space in the woods, they came upon a little child asleep on 
a sunny bank. No sign of a dwelling was near, and the friends, 
unwilling to leave the helpless little one alone, lingered near it 
a moment perplexed, till, hearing at a distance a woodcutter's 
ax, they determined to lead the child to the spot whence the 
sounds came. So, the streamlet, aided by the breeze, sprinkled 
a few drops of water into the child's face to awaken it. As the 
startled blue eyes opened, and the baby, scrambling to its feet, 
looked around, uncertain which way to go, the streamlet leaped 
foaming and sparkling over a heap of stones, and danced on be- 
fore the child, murmuring to it so coaxingly that it followed, de- 
lighted. But suddenly an unexpected danger arose. The stream- 
let in its course fell over a large rock and formed a deep pool at 
its base. The child, bending over, fascinated to look into the 
foaming, whirling water, would have fallen in had not the breeze 
come to its rescue. Shaking down from a flowering tree a shower 
of blossoms upon the little head, and bearing some of the bright 
petals on its wings, it flew before the little one, enticing him on 
till the danger was passed. In this way the companions led the 
baby on, till, near a clearing where stood a small cabin, they 
met a woman with a wild, frightened face, who caught him up in 
her arms, and covered his face with tears and kisses. But she 
did not stop to ask how he had come back to her ; and the breeze 
and the streamlet went on their way, too pure and single-hearted 
to dream that they had met with ingratitude. 



Paper No. 2. 


This second paper of our series brings us to one of the noblest 
instruments of investigation known to Science, and with its com- 
plement, " Integral Calculus" may be said to be the basis of a 
greater part of pure Mathematics ; for as Algebra is a more 
general form of Arithmetic so the Calculus may well be said to 
be the most general form of Pure Mathematics. He who is so 
fortunate as to possess a thorough knowledge of this branch 
is in the possession of the most powerful weapon of ana- 
lytical research. To the student who obtains a clear and pointed 
idea of the fundamental proposition shortly to be set forth, the 
pure science of Differential Calculus will present no difficulties. 
I say pure science, for I need hardly say that in the applications 
of it to certain parts of the "Theory of Plane Curves," such as 
the interpretation of results, etc., the obstacles are only over- 
come by years of study, and are only the products of a master 

The student who has advanced through Algebra, has doubt- 
less remarked the fact that all quantities which are presented to 
us in a mathematical discussion always belong to one of two 
classes, viz : 

1. Constant Quantities whose value is the same throughout a 
discussion, and, 

2. Variable Quantities that assume different values successively. 
Constant Quantities are usually represented by the first letters 

of the alphabet, as a, b, c. 

Variable Quantities are represented by the last letters of the 
alphabet, as x, y, z. 

If two quantities are so dependent on each other that a knowl- 
edge of the value of one will lead to the determination of the 


other's value they are said to be functions of each other, and if 
the value of one being known, the value of the other is obtained 
by simple algebraic substitution, the second is called an explicit 
function of the first, while if an equation has to be solved after 
fixing one's value to determine the other, the first is said to be 
an implicit function of the second. 

An explicit function is written y=Fx, and is read "function 
of x equals y." 

An implicit function is written Ffy, x), and is read "function 
x, y equals zero. 

The object of Differential Calculus is to investigate the laws of 
increase of functions having various forms, when such changes 
are produced by an arbitrary change in the value of the variable 
upon which the values of the functions depend. 

The fundamental proposition of Differential Calculus is: 

" To determine the form of development of any function of the 
algebraic sum of two quantities such as F(x-f-h) arranged accord- 
ing to ihe powers of the second, h." 

1st. There must be one term in the development which con- 
tains Fx, and the other terms must contain h. For as this is 
supposed to be a general development it must be true when h is 
zero, and we shall have F(x-f-0)=Fx. Hence we may write, 
using A, B, C, D, as functions of x, and a, b, c, d, as undeter- 
mined constants. 

F(x+h)=Fx+AhH-Bhb+Chc+Dhd+«Skc. (1) 
(Ah a is read Ah raised to the power denoted by a , and is regarded 
as an expotential.) 

2nd. No exponent can be negative, for if it could be so, let 
one term be Bh raised to the minus b power. This is evidently 
equivalent to B divided by h to the b power, which when h be- 
came zero would become infinite, and placing an infinite expres- 
sion equal to a finite one, which is manifestly absurd. 

3rd. No exponent can be fractional. For if it be possible, let 

us have one of the form Dh raised to the * power. Now this is 

equivalent to E times the radical quantity. The s root of h 


raised to the r power. Now this can have as many values as 
there are units in s, and consequently the right member of equa- 
tion (1) can have s values, while the left member only admits of 
one, hence the hypothesis is absurd. 

Hence the general form of expansion of F(x-f-h) is, F(x+h)= 
Fx+Ah+Bh2+Ch3+DhH-&c. Q. E. D. 

Now we have arrived at such a point that the elementary pro- 
cesses of differentiation can be taught, and I shall for brevity'? 
sake merely state the rule and solve an example in each case. 

Case 1. Two functions of a single variable. 

Rule. "Multiply the differential of one function by the others 
and take sum of results." 

Example. Differentiate 3axz. 

Put y=3axy, then the differentiation of y is written dy, and d 
is not regarded, but merely indicative of a process, and the ex- 
pression is read " differential of y." In the second member we 
first form the differential of x, for this purpose the rule is, "Mul- 
tiply the coefficient of the quantity by its exponent, subtract 
unity from its exponent and multiply by dx ; hence the differ- 
ential of 3ax, disregarding for the time z, is 3a multiplied by ex- 
ponent of x, which is unity, equals 3a ; now diminish x's exponent 
by unity, which makes it x to the zero power, which is equiva- 
lent to unity ; now multiply by dx and we have for the differen- 
tial 3ax, 3adx, but by the rule above we must multiply byz; 
proceeding similarly with z we have for the total differential, 

Case 2. If there be more than two factors, as u=vyz. 

Rule. "Multiply the differential of each factor by the con- 
tinued product of all the other factors, and all the results. 

Example. Differentiate u=vyz. 

du= d vyz-f-dy vz-f-dzvy. 

Case 3. To differentiate a fraction, u=7. 


Rule. " Multiply the differential of the numerator by the 
denominator, subtract from this the product of the differential of 
the denominator times the numerator, and divide the whole by 
the square of the denominator. 


• Example. Differentiate u=y. 
du= dyz-dzy 

Case 4. To differentiate the power of a single variable as x to 
the u power. 

Rule. " Multiply the given power (x n ) by the exponent, 
(producing nx n ) diminish the power by unity (producing nx n_1 ) 
and multiply by the differential of the root (dx). 

Example. Differentiate y 8 . (The results of the successive 
steps of the rule are written out) sy s , sy s — 1, sy s — 1 , sy s ~ ids. 


Differentiate y=ax 2 (bx-f-c) this is equivalent to y=abx 3 -f- 
acx 2 . (Applying Rule 4.) 

dy=3abx 2 dx+2acxdx =dy=3abx2+2acx. (2) 

The quantity dy is read differential y, function of x, and is the 
first differential coefficient. 



As originally planned, 'Les Troyens' was of prodigious length. 
It would have occupied some five or six hours in performance. 
It was founded upon the second arid fourth books of the '^Eneid.' 
Berlioz flattered himself that he had accomplished ' un grand 
ope>a traite dans le systeme shakespearien ;' he had been employed 
during three years and a half in correcting, changing, enriching, 
polishing, and repolishing his work. It became necessary, how- 
ever, to divide this voluminous grand opera into two parts. 'Les 
Troyens a, Carthage,' produced in 1863 at the Theatre Lyrique, 
then under M. Carvalho's direction, was but half of the original 


score; and after the first representation many numbers were sup- 
pressed. The opera did not fail absolutely; it enjoyed, indeed, 
twenty-one performances ; but it scarcely succeeded ; the public 
held somewhat aloof, and ' Les Troyens' was played to unremu- 
nerative houses. The work was designed for the Grand OpeYa ; 
it needed a large stage and lavish scenic decoration. Berlioz, 
like Wagner, looked for the co-operation of all the arts in the 
production of opera; painting and architecture were to combine 
with poetry and music. On the limited stage of the Lyrique, the 
composer was much cramped ; his designs were frustrated, his in- 
tentions misunderstood. He wanted 'plusieurs chutes d'eau 
reelles ; 'he had to be content with painted cascades ; his dance of 
satyrs was executed by a group of little girls of twelve, who were 
not allowed to cary lighted torches — ' les pompiers' were afraid of 
fire. The chorus of nymphs, instead of running about the stage 
picturesquely dishevelled, remained in the wings, and were 
scarcely audible. The thunder was weak, the orchestra scanty; 
the grand effect of ' la chasse pendant l'orage ' failed completely, 
and led to a pause in the performance of fifty minutes' duration 
to enable the bungling machinists to change the scene. More- 
over, fault was found with the book I Berlioz was accused of em- 
ploying ' les mots en usage dans les guinguettes et les theatres de 
vaudeville,' expressions altogether unsuited to an epic subject. 
After the completion but before the production of ' Les Troyens,' 
he wrote his two-act comic opera of ' Beatrice et Benedict,' 
founding the libretto upon Shakespeare's ' Much Ado about 
Nothing.' ' Beatrice' was presented with some success at Baden 
in 1862, the part of the heroine being sustained by Madame 
Charton, a charming singer, who afterwards appeared as Dido in 
' Les Troyens a, Carthage ' at the Lyrique in 1863. Certain critics 
from Paris pronounced that the score of ' Beatrice et Benedict ' 
contained 'beaucoup de broussailles,' and that the dialogue lacked 
spirit. Berlioz explained that the dialogue closely followed the 
text of Shakespeare. Berlioz, however, knew little English ; he 
professed deep love and veneration for the poet, but he studied 
him through the mists of a translation. The spirit of the original 




might well have evaporated in the process of converting the 
translated comedy into an opera-book. 

Berlioz held much less steadfastly than Wagner the dogma 
that a composer should be his own poet. It was with great sat- 
isfactin that he obtained at one time a libretto, ' La Nonne San- 
galante,' from Scribe, the most adroit and successful purveyor of 
opera-books. But MM. Roqueplan and Dnponchel, directors of 
the Grand Ope>a, persuaded Berlioz to resign his books into their 
hands. They promised him the post of conductor, and explained 
to him that by a ministerial rule no employe of the opera-house 
could be allowed to produce upon its stage any composition of his 
own. He was not appointed conductor, however; he avows that 
the directors never really contemplated such an appointment 
for one moment ; they only wanted his libretto. Naturally he 
felt himself duped. He had already composed two acts of the 
opera, but these, with the exception of two arias, he afterwards 
destroyed. He was much addicted to the destruction of his own 
composition. Still, in surrendering ' La Nonne Sanglante,' it is 
clear that he did not lose much, although to the last he was wont 
to inveigh against the insincerity of the directors, and even 
accused Scribe of aiding and abetting them. ' La Nonne San- 
glante ' proved to be one of the worst of Scribe's books. It was 
offered in turn to HaleVy, to Verdi, to Grisar ; they each in turn 
declined it. Berlioz thinks they were influenced by delicacy in 
his regard, and that they viewed Scribe's conduct in the matter, 
' comme un assez mauvais precede.' It is probable that they did 
not like the book. Gounod finally accepted it, and his ' Nonne 
Sanglante' duly appeared at the Grand Opera in 1854, to enjoy 
only ' un quart de succes ' and to vanish. 

The musician-poets or poet-musicians are indeed few in number 
unless we may count among them the lively Frenchman, M. 
Herv6, and the new Italian composer, Signor Boito, who has 
himself provided the book of his opera 'Mefistofeles,' a new setting 
of the Faust legend. It is a long step down, however from Berlioz 
and Wagner to the composer of Chilperic and other musical ex- 
travaganzas and buffooneries. But M. Herv^'s gifts, if they are 


small, are many; composer and playwright, he is in addition 
actor and singer. Not content with producing the books of his 
operas, he personates his own heroes and sings his own songs. 
Probably it is a matter of regret to bim that he cannot at the 
same time preside in the orchestra ; for M. Herve is an admirable 

. There is a story told of an English composer who, after a fash- 
ion, supplied the verses of an opera he was required to produce. It 
was in the year 1830 that Mr. John Barnett, presently to become 
famous for his ' Mountain Sylph ' and other works, was engaged 
by Charles Kemble, then manager of Covent Garden Theatre, to 
compose the music of an opera to be entitled ' The Carnival of 
Naples.' William Dimond, at one time famous as the author of 
various melodramas, — ' The Conquest of Taranto,' ' The Lady 
and the Devil,' and ' The Foundling of the Forest,' being among 
them, — had agreed to furnish the libretto of - The Carnival of 
Naples.' Mr. Dimond lived on the continent, however ; pecuni- 
ary and other troubles and liabilities kept him permanently apart 
from his native land. He sent from abroad a sort of skeleton book, 
a sketch in prose of his subject, desiring Mr. Barnett to select the 
situations most adapted for musical embellishment, and to write 
nonsense-verse in such metre as he might think appropriate ; Mr. 
Dimond promising that he would by-and-by substitute regular 
and intelligible rhymes for the composer's doggerel. He under- 
took, indeed, to fit his words to the music without ever hearing 
it or seeing the score, his sole guide being Mr. Barnett's nonsense- 
verses. But by some accident, when the opera came to be read 
in the green-room to the assembled actors and singers engaged to 
take part in the representation, the nonsense-versese and not the 
poet's rhymes were placed in the hands of the stage-manager, 
Mr. Bartley, who officiated as reader upon the occasion. Now, 
Mr. Bartley was a skilled elocutionist, rejoicing in his fine vocal 
tones, holding always that, if the sound of a speech was properly 
attended to, the sense might be left to take care of itself. He 
knew nothing of the mischance that had placed the wrong man- 
uscript before him. In his best manner he entered upon his task 


and declaimed the first lyrical piece in the drama, beginning 
with some such lines as — 

The beauteous orbs of day amid the silent skies 
Are laughing all serenely beneath the raging main. 

The audience murmured approval. Some whispered 'Charming!' 
others, ' Chaste ! So like Dimond ! There's no mistaking his 
style!' Only the composer was ill at ease, recognising his own 
rubbish. Still bethought it prudent to hold his peace until the 
reading was concluded. He then took Mr. Bartley aside, whisper- 
ing to him : ' Do you know that you have been reading my 
doggerel instead of Dimond's poetry? ' Bartley was much amazed, 
and then, dreading that much ridicule might attach to his own 
share in the business, entreated secrecy. ' I'll make it all right,' 
he said ; 'I'll take care that the prompter has the correct copy. 
For Heaven's sake, don't breathe a word of this to mortal crea- 
ture, or I shall never hear the last of it !' The opera was duly 
produced with Mr. Dimond's verses. It contained some fifteen 
numbers, songs, duets, trios, choruses, concerted pieces, and finales, 
coupled with nonsense lines in the first instance, and afterwards 
finding a more suitable match in Mr. Dimond's sense, assuming 
that his effusions, could be so described. 'The Carnival of Naples' 
proved completely successful. It introduced to a London audience 
a charming singer and actress in Miss Taylor, afterwards known 
as Mrs. Walter Lacy. 

The operatic composers of the past were certainly not care- 
ful about their books. The little French melodrama upon which 
Beethoven founded his 'Fidelio' was hardly worthy of his regard; 
it resembles a poor pebble magnificently set in massive gold. 
Leonora is perhaps the grandest character in the whole repertory 
of opera ; the other of the dramatis persona, however, are insigni- 
ficant and uninteresting enough. But as Stella declared of Swift 
that he could write beautifully about a broomstick, so it may be 
affirmed of Beethoven that he composed sublimely upon the 
poorest of themes. And even in Beethoven's time ' Le"anore, on 
l'Amour Conjugal,' was a trite subject, already set to music by 


Gaveaux and Paer. Weber, though he trusted to others for his 
books, so far anticipated Wagner as to hold the principle 'that the 
dramatic stage should combine as much as possible all the ex- 
cellences of every sister art,' incurring thereby the ridicule and 
the reproaches of Tieck for troubling himself about 'frivolous and 
absurd minutiae.' Tieck protested, indeed, that it was beneath 
a man of influence and genius to display so much little-minded' 
anxiety about scenery, decoration, and 'machinery nonsense. 
Still, Weber was not to be dissuaded from attending to the 
'mounting' of the opera of ' Der Freischiitz;' 'every scrap of 
scenery,' writes his biographer, ' every trifle among the proper- 
ties, every effect of lighting was examined, rehearsed, altered, 
and improved under his direction.' He took heed that the eagle 
and the owl introduced in the course of the drama should be 
properly manufactured, and made the theatrical costumier consult 
certain carved mediaeval figures of huntsmen, exclaiming, ' Now 
copy me these old fellows for my Freischiitz people.' His next 
opera, however, was to incur something very like failure for all 
his anxiety and labour to obtain a likely and promising book. 
He had first thought of setting the 'Cid' to music, then of a 
libretto upon the story of Dido ; finally he trusted himself to the 
untender mercies of an elderly poetess, Helmine von Chezy ; the 
deplorably dull book of ' Euryanthe ' was the result. No wonder 
the wits dubbed the opera 'Ennuyante ; ' just as the French version 
of the ' Zauberflote ' of Mozart, ' Les Mysteres d'Isis,' came to 
be commonly known among the comical as ' Les Miseres d'Ici.' 
It should be added, however, that the apparently childish drama 
of the ' Zauberflote ' has been invested by some critics with deeply 
significant symbolism. Though composed avowedly as a Sings- 
piel for a Viennese Volkstheater, the '.Zauberflote' so charmed 
Goethe, much possessed by mystical tendencies during his later 
years, that he offered to write an opera-book continuing the sub- 

It is to be observed that no operatic subject can be monopolised 
by a composer ; he connot hinder other musicians from borrow- 
ing his libretto and attaching it to a new score. There is a 


' Medea' by Benda and there is a ' Medea' by Simon Mayer, as 
well as a ' Medea' by Cherubini ; Lully's 'Armide' did not bin- 
der the production of Gl lick's 'Armide' or of Handel's ' Rinaldo ;' 
there is a ' Barbiere' by Paesiello and there is a ' Barbiere' by 
Rossini ; the story of Semiramis had been set to music by both 
Catel and Bianchi before Rossini took it in hand ; Spohr produced 
a new opera upon the subject of Zernire et Azor (Beauty and tbe 
Beast) which Gretry had already rendered famous; the books of 
Auber's 'Philtre' and Donizetti's ' Elisir d'Amore,' of Flotow's 
' Marta ' and Balfe's ' Maid of Honour,' of Auber's ' Gustave III.' 
and Verdi's ' Ballo in Maschera' closely correspond; Carafa's 
'Masaniello' preceded Auber's 'Mutte de Portici.' In his auto- 
biography Spohr relates that he had projected an opera upon the 
story of ' Der Schwarze Jager,' when he learnt that Weber was 
already at work upon ' Der Freischiitz.' Forthwith Spohr aban- 
doned his plan ; ' for with my music,' he frankly avows, ' which 
is not adapted to please the multitude and excite the popular en- 
thusiasm, I should never have met with the unexampled success 
obtained by " Der Freischiitz." ' Weber at one time contem- 
plated as a subject for an opera that mediaeval legend of Tann- 
hauser which Richard Wagner was afterwards so prodigiously to 
set to music. Spohr's ' Faust,' it may be noted, did not really 
anticipate the 'Faust' of Gounod; Spohr's fable has little in 
common with Goethe's or even Marlow's version of the legend, 
but has for heroine a lady called Cunegonda whose lover is named 
Hugo, the most prominent events in the drama being the siege 
and destruction of an enchanted castle. 

■ While Wagner was eager for the translation of his opera-books 
into French, Rossini opposed any such tampering with his works, 
holding that Italian operas should be sung in Italian, German 
operas in German, French operas in French. Nevertheless, ver- 
sions of 'Otello,' ' II Barbiere,' and 'Semiramide,' were prepared 
for representation at the Grand Ope"ra, Paris. M. Mery, who had 
provided the French edition of 'Semiramide,' proposed to sub- 
mit his translation to the composer. Rossini replied : ' Je vous 
regarde cbmme mon ami ; vous m'avez assure que vous teniez a 


mon amitie". Eh bien, si vous y tenez re"ellement, ne me montrez 
rien.' The opera of ' Guillaume Tell,' however, was expressly 
composed for the Grand Opdra, and Rossini himself re-arranged 
his ' Mose" in Egitto' for the same establishment. And apart from 
translation, a certain convertibility has attached to opera-books 
in reference to questions of religion, of politics, and of copyright. 
In England, although we have tolerated Auber's setting of the 
parable of the Prodigal Son, it has been deemed necessary in the 
interest of propriety to transform the Moses of Rossini's opera 
into Zoroaster or Peter the Hermit, and Verdi's Nabuco into Nino 
or Atrato. Before Italy was free and united, it was usual to pre- 
sent ' Guillaume Tell ' at Milan under the title of ' Wallace ; ' 
while at Rome ' Lucrezia Borgia' was called now ' La Rinnegata,' 
and now ' Elisa da Fosco.' The censorship further required that 
Bellini's 'Norma' should appear as 'La Foresta d'Irminsul,' for 
the word Norma, in the sense of guide or rule, had become eccle- 
siastical property from its connection with such books as ' Norma 
per vivere devotamente; ' Norma della prima communione,' &c. 
In Russia it has also been required that certain operatic subjects 
should undergo changes of nationality and of character to render 
them inoffensive to an absolute government. 

Copyright difficulties in regard to opera-books have occurred 
chiefly in France. In 1840, Victor Hugo contested the right of 
the Italian librettists to make free with his dramas, and obtained 
of the law-courts a decision in his favour. Forthwith the authors 
of ' La Pie Voleuse,' 'La Grace de Dieu,' &c, sought to restrict 
the representation of ' La Gazza Ladra,' ' Linda di Chamouni,' 
&c. When Mr. Lumley in 1850 undertook the management of 
the Italian opera-house, he found himself unable to produce such 
works as 'La Fille du Regiment,' ' Ernani,' ' Rigoletto,' &c, 
without the consent of the original authors of the dramas upon 
which those operas were founded. He applied to Victor Hugo 
for permission to present 'Lucrezia Borgia;' M. Hugo peremp- 
torily refused. He had been annoyed, perhaps, by certain evasive 
performances in the French provinces of his play, with Donizetti's 
music, under the new name of ' Nizza di Grenada ; ' and he 


alleged that his ' Lucrece Borgia ' was about to be produced at 
the Francais for Mdlle. Eachel. Mr. Lumley sought the aid of 
Rachel, who interceded on his behalf with the dramatist, while 
she disclaimed all intention of ever appearing as Lucrece Borgia. 
Terms were at last arranged : Mr. Lumley was permitted six 
representations both of Donizetti's ' Lucrezia ' and Verdi's 
' Ernani,' on condition that payment was made to M. Hugo of 
ten per cent, upon the gross receipts of each evening. The sys- 
tem of 'authors' rights' is firmly rooted in France, and spreads 
widely its branches. It has even been decided that the descendants 
and heirs of Beaumarchais are still entitled to share in the profits 
arising from any performance in France of Mozart's ' Nozze de 

To a librettist it may be said that nothing is sacred : he con- 
siders everything in its relation to the uses of music. Literature 
is to him so many opera-books. Now he seeks subjects in the 
pages of Scripture, now in historical records, in fairy tales, the 
legends of romance, in the works of poets and playwrights, of 
novelists and story-tellers of all periods and countries. Usually 
he deals with dramas of established popularity, however, stud- 
ding them with songs, if need be converting their prose into 
verse, and arranging effective concerted pieces and ensembles; for 
it has been judged that the public likes best operas founded upon 
familiar subjects, the union of music with thoroughly intelligible 
themes, lest the intentions of the composer should be miscon- 
ceived, or his interpreters should fail to make themselves under- 
stood. It may be difficult to gather the signification of a story, 
however melodiously illustrated, that is not told in plain speech 
but in song, sometimes in sing-song. Probably it was due to the 
popularity and the fame of M. Hugo's plays, less than to any 
special fitness they possessed for operatic purposes, that they were 
transferred one after another to the musical stage ; and in like 
manner may be accounted for the gradual annexing by the com- 
posers of the tragedies and comedies of Shakespeare, the plays 
now of Voltaire, now of Corneille, of Racine, Beaumarchais, 
Goethe, Byron, Goldsmith, and many more. Even now the sue- 


cess of any play is a sort of justification of its conversion into 
opera. The prosperity enjoyed by the melodrama of ' The Duke's 
Motto' fully excused its appearance as 'Blanche de Nevers,' an 
opera by Balfe, at Covent Garden ; ' La Dame aux Cameras ' 
produced 'La Traviata;' from 'Don Ce'sar de Bazan' came 
f Maritana ; ' from the 'Colleen Bawn,' 'The Lily of Killarney.' 
The late Mr. Fitzball has narrated how he once planned to found 
an opera-book upon the favourite drama of 'The Corsican 
Brothers : ' Mr. Balfe had agreed to provide the music, and Mr. 
Sims Reeves had undertaken to personate the twins Fabien and 
Louis ; the project, however, was not carried into execution. 
Shakespeare, it may be observed, has been the inciting cause of 
many musical compositions, and certain of these are charmingty 
graceful and melodious ; but no opera quite of the first class has 
been founded upon a Shakespearean play. The operas are born 
and perish ; but the plays live on immortal. There are at least 
half-a-dozen operatic settings of ' Borneo and Juliet,' without 
counting the symphony of Berlioz : but in no case has the com- 
poser risen to the height of the poet. At one time there was 
promise that a musician really worthy of the dramatist had taken 
one of his plays in hand. M. Scribe had moulded the ' Tempest ' 
into the form of a libretto : some violence was done to the poet, 
no doubt, and yet, from the point of view of French opera, the 
task was not unskilfully performed ; and Mendelssohn had con- 
sented to compose the music within a specified period. ' I shall 
try to do it,' he wrote, ' try with all my heart, and as well as I 
can.' But his ardour cooled, or he lost heart ; he liked Scribe's 
libretto less and less. By-and-by, Mendelssohn dead, it fell to the 
ingenious but uninspired M. HaleVy to set to music Scribe's edi- 
tion of Shakespeare's play. The result was one of those successes 
that are merely failures in disguise. The most admired number 
in Hale>y's score was an arrangement of Dr. Arne's 'Where the 
Bee sucks ; ' it was no longer a song, but Carlotta Grisi danced 
exquisitely to the melody. 

Operas are sometimes weighed down by the badness of their 
books ; they are as bank-notes wrapped round stones and sunk. 



On the other hand, a good book may float mediocre music. Some 
French opera-books are so excellent, that in a translated form they 
have shone independently as plays, dispensing with the music 
for which they first existed. Divorce is occasionly obtained in 
regard to the marriage of music and immortal verse. For music 
is not really of long life, although here and there may be found 
exceptional instances of longevity. Few operas that are more 
than fifty years old now find a place upon the musical stage. 





As the day dawned, she grew calm, and the doctor, who came 
early in the morning found her out of danger, which he had 
scarcely hoped. He sat a long time by the boy's bed, listened 
smilingly to his wonderful questions, kindly recommended to 
him rest and patience, and left with an assurance that all was 
going well. But what is the use of recommending rest and 
patience to one who has caught a momentary glimpse of a land 
which he has for many a year longed to see ! His father must 
spend all the time he could steal from his duties to come to his 
boy's sick room and talk. The door must be left open so that 
Marlina too could hear the beautiful stories, legends of holy men 
and women whom God had visited with heavy infirmities, whom 
afterwards He had restored. The legend of Prince Henery, for 
whom the pious maiden Elsie would have sacrificed herself in 
her humility : and how God brought about a happy ending at the 
last ; and whatever other edifying histories the worthy pastor 


could remember. If the tale insensibly moved the good man 
to thanksgiving, or if his wife raised her clear voice in hymns of 
joy, Clement would also fold his hands, or sing with his mother. 
But the next moment he would ask new questions, which showed 
that he took more interest in the story than in the song. Marlina 
asked nothing. She was gentle to everybody, and no one sus- 
pected how many thoughts and questions were settling in her 
brain. The children grew visibly better day by day, and on the 
fourth day after the operation, the doctor allowed them to get up. 
He himself supported the little girl, as weak and trembling she 
went from the dark room to the open door where the boy stood, 
joyfully stretching out his eager hands to her. He held her hand 
firmly and begged her to lean on him, which she did trustfully. 
They walked up and down the room, and he with the keen sense 
of locality which the blind always possess, carefully led her past 
the chairs and book-cases standing near the wall. 

" How are you ? " he asked. " Very well," was the answer to- 
day, as always. " Come," he said suddenly, " lean firmer, you 
are still weak. It would do you good to breathe a little of the 
fresh air, for the air is close and heavy here. But we cannot do 
it yet, the doctor says. The light will wound and blind our eyes 
if we see it too soon. Oh, now I know what light and darkness 
are. The note of a flute is not as sweet as a flood of light around 
your eyes. It hurt me, I must confess, but I could have stood 
gazing at its brightness forever, so sweet was the pain. You, too, 
will feel it. But many days must yet pass before we can enjoy 
it. But then, I will do nothing all the day long but see. One 
thing I should like to know, Marlina. They say everything has 
a different color. Of what color are your face and mine? Dark 
or light ? It would be horrible if they were not beautifully bright. 
I wonder if I will know you with my eyes. At present, by grop- 
ing, I could tell you from among all the world, only by using 
my little finger, but hereafter we must learn to know each other 
all over again. I know now that your cheeks and your hair are 
soft to the touch. I wonder if your eyes are so, too? I wish I 
knew, and it is so long to wait ! " 


In this way he chattered incessantly, nor noticed that Marlina 
was silent. Many of his words sank deep in her heart. For her- 
self, she had never believed that she would see, yet scarcely knew 
why she thought so. She had heard of mirrors without under- 
standing what they were. She thought now, that as soon as she 
should open her eyes, she would see herself. 

When she was once more in bed and the Pastor's wife thought 
her sleeping, she remembered Clement's words ' it would be 
horrible if our faces were not bright.' She had heard of beauty 
and ugliness, and that ugly people were pitied, and often were 
less loved. If I am ugly, she said to herself, he will have noth- 
ing more to do with me ! Before it was all the same to him. He 
loved to play with my hair, and called it strands of silk. That 
will all end if he finds me ' horrible.' And he, if he is ugly too, 
I will seem not to know anything about it, but will still love 
him. I know he cannot be ugly, not he ! 

Long did she ponder on this new sorrow and curiosity. It was 
sultry, in the garden the nightingales were calling to each other 
in short, sharp, anxious cries, and a blast of west wind shook the 
panes. She was alone in the room, for her mother's bed, which 
had been by hers, had been carried out of the small room on ac- 
count of the heat. She no longer needed a nurse at night, for 
her fever had entirely passed away, but to-night it came again, 
and she lay tossing on her bed until, long past midnight, she fell 
into a short, unquiet slumber. In the meanwhile the storm 
which had been growling all round the horizon for half the night, 
gathered in its might, came down over the forest and there rested 
for the wind had died. A burst of thunder awoke Marlina, and 
half dreaming, she raises herself up. She knows not what she 
does or thinks she tries to rise, her pillows are so hot. Now she 
is standing by the bed, and hears the heavy rain beating outside, 
but it does not cool her burning head. She tries to collect her- 
self and thinks, but finds nothing in her heart but the same sor- 
rowful thoughts with which she went to sleep. She makes a 
strange determination : she will go to Clement, he too is alone. 
What shall hinder her from putting an end to all her uncertainty 


and seeing him herself. Of this only does she think, and all the 
doctor's warnings are forgotten. She goes without waiting for 
a moment, just as she left her bed, to the door, which is half 
open ; finds the head of the bed, steals on tip-toe to the side of 
the sleeping boy, and bending over him with suppressed breath, 
quickly pulls the bandage from her eyes. But horror seizes her, 
for it is as dark as before. She has forgotten that it is night, and 
that she had been told, that every one is blind at night. She had 
imagined that a flood of brightness would flow before her eyes, 
and lighten herself and everything. Now she feels the gentle 
breathing of the boy on her eyes, but distinguished no form. 
Confounded and dispairing she is about to go, when a flash of 
lightning blazed for a second through the uncurtained window, a 
second, a third, the air quivers with light, thunder and rain 
increase in fury. The girl stares for a moment at the golden 
head softly pressing the pillow; then the picture vanishes, her 
eyes are flooded with tears, and trembling with unspeakable 
anguish, she flies to her room, pulls down the bandage, and sinks 
on her bed ; and something within her says — she knows it is the 
truth — she has seen for the first and last time. 


It is a few weeks later. To-day, for the first time, the strength 
of the children's eyes is to be tried in full daylight. The doctor, 
who in the meanwhile, has sent out from the city the simple 
directions necessary, is himself to be present and enjoy the fruit 
of his care. Instead of curtains the windows were hung with 
garlands ; and both rooms were gayly decorated with festoons of 
leaves and flowers. The Baron and whoever in the village was 
related to either family had come together, old folks and children, 
to congratulate and rejoice with the convalescents. Marlina, 
in anguish, was squeezing herself in a corner when Clement, 
glowing with ecstasy, stood before her and seized her hand. He 
had begged to be allowed to see her first : so at the same moment 
they loosed both bandages. 


An Ah ! of wordless joy burst from the boys lips. He remained 
rooted to the spot, a brilliant smile on his lips, his bright eyes 
glancing hither and thither. He had forgotten that Marlina was 
to stand before him, nor did he know indeed what a human form 
was. She stood without moving, only the eyelashes which shaded 
her clear, brown, dead eyes quivered. Yet none suspected. 
They thought amazement on seeing so many strange things, 
stunned her. But when the joy of the boy broke out as they 
told him, "it is Marlina," he, according to his old habit, stroked 
her cheeks with his hand, and said, " You have a bright face," 
she burst into tears, and shaking her head passionately, said in- 
audibly, " it is all dark to me ; everything is the same as before ! " 



In producing Bach's St. Matthew Passion music for the first 
time in New York, the Oratorio Society did well in prefixing to 
the little book of the words an explanatory page abridged from 
the excellent notes of Mr. John S. Dwight. This told the 
listeners what they were to expect ; it indicated, in a few well 
chosen phrases the character of the great— we had almost said 
this unique — music ; it described the peculiar plan of the work ; 
it pointed out, not all of the most famous numbers, but at least 
some of the most striking and interesting passages ; in a word, it 
taught the audience how to listen. Without some such guide, 
many of them would probably have been lost. Bach's Passion 
is singularly unlike all the music with which we are familiar; 
not in its deep religious sentiment and its ineffable tenderness 
and sorrow (for many modern works share these qualities in a 
lesser degree), but in the form of its melodies and the manner of 
treating the musical idea. Most people, we dare say, neither 

*Bach's Passion Music was very finely rendered in Boston last year.— Ed. 


comprehend nor enjoy it at the first hearing. He must be a dull 
listener, it is true, who remains insensible to the opening chorus, 
" Come, ye daughters," or the final chorus, "Around thy tomb," 
or the alto solos, "Grief and pain," " O, pardon me, my God," 
and " Ah, Golgotha;" or to the chorals, introduced with such 
tremendous effect, as when the solemn hymn, " A head, all bruised 
and wounded," follows with a short pause after the dramatic 
narrative of the crucifixion. Still the forms of much of the 
music are so strange to us that they need a more thoughtful atten- 
tion than the ordinary concert audience is inclined to give them. 
The same causes which make the Passion difficult to appreciate 
make it still more difficult to sing, and we can hardly praise too 
highly the zeal of the Oratorio Society which crowns a season of 
remarkable industry by the production of such a stupendous 
composition. The Berlioz performance was child's play by the 
side of it. The cuts made in the score last night were no more 
than were necessary to bring the work within reasonable limits 
of time. The whole of it requires five hours in the performance ; 
Dr. Damrosch, by judicious excisions, reduced it to three. 

The choice of St. George's Church for the performance was in 
some respects an advantage. The religious spirit in which the 
Passion Music ought to be listened to, if one would understand 
it, was stimulated by the associations of the place, and the air of 
decorum and recollection which pervaded the assembly. The 
singing, however, was not favorably affected by the situation. 
The chorus was placed on temporary benches covering the chan- 
cel ; the orchestra was necessarily divided into two wings, pushed 
back under the galleries and wholly separated from each other 
by the body of singers. As a natural consequence, the voices 
and the band were not always together. The arrangement was 
the more to be regretted because the chorus, having had little 
experience in this kind of music, needed all the help it could 
get, and creditable as its efforts generally were, it was not quite 
at its ease. The comfortable assurance which distinguishes most 
of its work was lacking here — as well it might be. 


Of the solo singers it is difficult to speak with exact justice. 
The important and beautiful part of the Evangelist (tenor) was 
given with great feeling and delicacy by Mr. William J. Winch. 
Mrs. Anna Granger Dow had the soprano solos, Miss Matilda 
Phillips the alto, Mr. George E. Aiken (bass) had the part of 
Jesus, and the other bass solos were sung by Mr. John F. Winch. 
The gentlemen were better fitted for their tasks than the ladies, 
neither of the latter being at her best in Bach's music. 

The beauty not only of the solos, but the choruses, was un- 
doubtedly affected by the extremely slow time in which the work 
was taken. The metronomic marks affixed to the score by Robert 
Franz indicate a much quicker tempo than Dr. Damrosch allowed 
himself. No conductor, however, is bound to accept Franz's judg- 
ment of what Bach probably intended, and Dr. Damrosch's de- 
liberate opinion in a question of interpretation is entitled to great 
respect. — Exchange. 


Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes 
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, 
The bird of dawning singeth all night long : 
And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad : 
The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, 
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, 
So hallowed and so gracious is the time. — Hamlet. 

The greater number of superstitions regarding animals, so 
common in all parts of Ireland, like those of France, Germany, 
Denmark and Sweden, relate to the part played by the brute cre- 
ation during Christ's life on earth. It is generally supposed that 
these stories had their origin in Pagan times, and that the early 
Christian teachers, despairing of being able to eradicate the super- 
stitious observances of the people, thought fit to divert them to 


their own use, and rebaptised the ancient myths and legends. 
The reader of ' Farrar's Life of Christ ' will remember the ex- 
tracts given from the Apocryphal Gospels, which relate how the 
ox and the ass in the stable knelt in adoration at the Saviour's 
birth. To this old tradition, and to the fact that the ass's colt 
was ridden by Christ, and has the mark of a cross upon its back, 
may be traced the esteem in which the ass is held throughout Ire- 
land. The people consider it lucky to have one of these animals 
to graze in the field with their cattle, thinking its presence a pro- 
tection from witch or fairy. The Roman Catholic peasantry of 
the county Donegal gravely assure you that every ass falls upon 
its knees at midnight on Christmas Eve, and brays three times ; 
and many of them are ready to swear that this is certainly the 
case, they having remained awake until the holy hour, on pur- 
pose to see and hear it for themselves. In Derry, Antrim, and 
Tyrone the people say that all the animals in the stable do the 
same. The reader will be reminded of the Breton legend that 
the ox and ass receive the gift of speech for the space of an hour 
upon Christmas Eve. 

The cock is also held in very high esteem, and is believed to 
be well aware of the reason for rejoicing at Christmas-tide, since 
for nine nights at that season he crows all night long. Nor is 
this belief altogether confined to Roman Catholics. A Presby- 
terian family in Carrigans, a village in the county Donegal, had 
some years ago a hen so piously disposed, that she imitated her 
crested spouse, and crowed loudly on Christmas Eve. Now, as 
the crowing of a hen is at all other times considered a most un- 
lucky omen, the mistress of the house exclaimed in consternation 
from her bed, ' Whisht, you vilain of a bird ! Just wait till to- 
morrow, an' I'll wring your unlucky neck.' 

"Deed you will not !' cried the master. 'You'll no stir thon 
hen, for she has more wit nor many a Christian.' 

So the crowing hen lived on ; but had she happened to crow at 
any other time than Christmas Eve, she would have been thought 
the herald of death or misfortune to the family, and would have 


met with a speedy end. Everybody in Ulster knows the old 
saying — 

A whistling maid and a crowing hen 
Was never good in one town end. 

The insect known in some parts of England as the ' devil's 
coach-horse,' in others as the ' coffin-cutter,' and in Ireland and 
the highlands of Scotland as the diaoul, or devil, is everywhere 
in evil repute. If one of the old legends regarding this insect 
is to be believed, it earned the enmity of mankind very early in 
the world's history. It is said to have eaten the core of the 
apple thrown away by Eve, and to this day a strong smell of 
apples is perceived when it is crushed. But this ancient sinner 
is hated by the Irishman for quite another cause. Judas, on his 
way to betray Christ to His enemies, met a number of diaouls, 
who turned up their tails to indicate the direction in which He 
had gone. The Roman Catholic in Cavan, Louth, and Meath 
says that anyone killing a diaoul before it has time to turn up 
its tail is forgiven seven sins ; and if so fortunate as to kill it on 
a Friday, the sins of the whole week are remitted. 

The common black beetle has gained a still worse reputation. 
The reason given in all parts of Ireland for the evil odour in 
which this insect is held, is the following : Some days before 
our Saviour's Passion, when the rulers of the Jews sent men to 
apprehend Him, they met a young man at work in the fields, of 
whom they inquired whether Jesus of Nazareth had passed that 

' Yes,' replied the young man. 

' But when ?' No answer. 

A black beetle, however, raised its tiny head, and said, ' Yes- 
terday, yesterday ; ' since when it lias always been considered a 
praisworthy action to kill a beetle wherever encountered. The 
Roman Catholics believe that they are forgiven seven sins if they 
kill it on any day in the week except Friday ; but if on Friday, 
they are absolved from the sins of the whole week. The Irish- 
speaking peasant, while crushing it, exclaims, 'Nie, nie, a-gaddah P 
i.e., 'Yesterday, yesterday, you thief!' Should an educated Pro- 



testant ask why this insect is persecuted with so much rancour, he 
is not always told the story given above, but sometimes receives 
this answer : ' The black clock is listening ; it will tell something.' 
A favourite cure for whooping-cough in Derry and Donegal is to 
catch a beetle which flies against you unawares (you must not be 
on the look-out for it), and to cork it up tightly in a bottle. As it 
slowly dies, the patient is supposed to get better. Perhaps this 
last superstition may somehow be connected with the virtuous 
action involved in the destruction of a beetle. 

Before leaving the subject of Irish superstitions relating to 
Christ's life on earth, we may mention that in Ireland, as in other 
countries, the robin is believed to have plucked a thorn out of 
the crown of thorns, and to have got its breast stained in so 

Tinkers are looked down upon in Donegal for the following 
reason: When the blacksmith was ordered to make nails for the 
Cross, he refused, but the tinker consented to make them ; and 
Christ condemned him and all his race to be wanderers, and never 
to have a roof of their own to cover them, till the world's end. 

' Can that be true ? ' we asked the woman who told us the fore- 
going story. ' Is it not the case that tinkers must wander from 
place to place in order to ply their trade?' 

'Na, na, Miss: it's the blessed Lord's judgment on them that 
keeps them from having a house o' their ain.' 

The same person declares that she has seen the sun dance for 
joy on Easter morning. ' She ' (the Irish peasant always makes 
the sun feminine) ' was just risen above the mountains, when she 
gave three wee skips for joy that Christ is risen. Sure I seen it 
wi' my ain eyes.' 

The cock is esteemed very highly for his wisdom, inherited, in 
all probability, from the ancestor that crowed when Peter denied 
his Lord. Should he crow at an untimely hour, such as from six 
p. M. to eleven p. St., he is believed to prophesy some event affect- 
ing the family, and the mistress hastens to feel his feet. If they 
are cold, her heart sinks, for she knows that he foretells a death ; 
but if warm she is comforted and reassured, sure that the house 


prophet is but rejoicing at the expected arrival of a good letter 
from America, or some other piece of luck. 
All readers are aware that 

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, 
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat 
Awake the god of day ; and, at his warning, 
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, 
The extravagant and erring spirit hies 
To his confine. 

The writer has been told by a poor woman of an interview she 
had with her dead sister, who came to her bedside, and laid a 
chilly hand upon her breast. 

' "Why do you come, Peggy dear ? " says I. 

' "Just to bid you quit your crying an' lamenting, Grace," says 
she ; "for in troth you're keeping me frae my rest." 

"'An' what is it makes the hand of you that cold, Peggy?" 
says I, for the cold of it went to my heart. 

' "Troth," says she, "you kept me flying about between earth 
an' heaven, an' it's cold there." 

' "An' was it my lamenting did it on you, mavourneen ? for if 
it was, sorra another tear Pll drop for you." 

' "Whisht," says she, 

" The cocks do crow, 
And I must go ; " 

and wi' that she faded away.' 

' Did she never return ?' 

' Na, na, miss, dear ; she got to her rest, for I lamented nae 
mair ; an' forbye that I lived three year poor and hungry, till I 
gathered the price of masses for her soul.' 

In Cork and Kerry the crowing of a cock at night is thought 
to give notice that a ghost is in ' the house, and then whoever is 
still afoot hurries to bed in trepidation and draws the blanket 
over his head. 






Subscription. — One copy, per year, 50 cents. Single num- 
bers 10 cents. 

BilfCorrespondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of A. Williams 

Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month, 
are requested to notify us at once. The Muse will be issued 
monthly during term time, or nine numbers a year, and adver- 
tisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a year's con- 
tract. All matters on business should be addressed to the 
Muse, St. Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C. 

Our old schoolmate, Sallie Pate, has taken a school at Win- 
ston, and we are told, fills the position with great satisfaction to 
her pupils and their parents. 

We learn that our dear old friend, Mrs. Steiner, and her 
daughters, Bessie and Adele, have left earlier than they antici- 
pated, and have gone to their home in Austin, Texas. May every 
joy and blessing attend them ! 

It is rumored that at an early date the social entertainment of 
Saturday evening will be taken in charge by the Primary -and 
Kindergarten Departments. We expect great things from our 
little sisters, and doubt not our expectations will be fully realized. 
Look out for your laurels, girls, when the little ones come to the 


The Lenten Fast is rapidly passing away, and pretty soon 
the glories of the " queen of festivals " will be ours. In a cease- 
less round of " service " and of studies, the weeks have glided by. 
The constant rains have shut us in more effectually than ever 
from the outer world. Our evening " readings " are always a 
pleasant feature of Lent, and we feel sure that in days to come 
the remembrance of these holy seasons will be among the most 
cherished of all our school life. 

The magnificent painting, " The Shadow of the Rock," by 
Rev. J. A. Oertel, which excited so much attention in the Art 
Gallery at the Centennial, has been donated by the artist to the 
University of the South. The authorities of the University, with 
a due appreciation of this munificent gift, have assigned it a 
prominent place in the Theological Hall. We rejoice that this 
noble picture has found so fitting a shrine; one where it can best 
fulfill its author's great desire, and prove an effective educator in 
the cause of Christian Art. 

We have to record with grateful pleasure another delightful 
visit and lecture from Bishop Lyman. His " Notes of Foreign 
Travel " seem to be inexhaustible. This time he took us from 
Cairo "by the way of the wilderness of the Red Sea" to Mt. 
Sinai, and back again by the Suez Canal to Joppa, and so, up to 
Jerusalem. The desert of the Sinaitic Peninsula is dreary 
enough, but his bright and genial companionship made it any- 
thing but dreary to us. Full of instruction, yet never flagging in 
interest ; scrupulously minute in detail, yet never degenerating 
into monotony — his vivid descriptions and edifying comments 
enchained our attention from first to last. The theme was quite 
different from any other upon which the Bishop has discoursed 
to us, but the scenes through which we passed seemed not unfa- 
miliar as they recalled the successive chapters of that dear old 
story which falls on our ears with ever-increasing interest from 
the time when, first at our mother's side, we hear about " Joseph 
and his Brethren," to our latest hour, when, life and wanderings 
all over, we stand on Pisgah heights and see " the Canaan that 


we love" lying, in all its peaceful beauty, on " the other side " of 

Over that unchanging Oriental land a solemn, shadowy still- 
ness has ever brooded. The aspect of the country is in all its 
main points the same as when Moses, more than three millenni- 
ums ago, led his great multitude of fugitives out of their land of 
bondage. Our route, after it had reached the eastern shore of 
the Red Sea, was undoubtedly the same that they had followed. 
The waters of Marah we find to be as bitter as of yore. At the 
welcome oasis of Elsin, " we encamped by the waters " as they 
did, and rested for our noonday meal under the grateful shade of 
the three-score-and-ten palm trees. 

Our camels (no less than fourteen were provided for a party of 
four persons) bore us slowly but surely over the desert waste, and 
at last we stood, with a sense of awe, on the great triangular 
plain at the base of Sinai. It was here that the Israelites were 
grouped when Moses went up alone into the Mount to commune 
with God and to receive from His hand the tables of the law; it 
was here that, impatient of his return, they made and worshipped 
the golden calf; here they built the tabernacle, and were taught all 
the minutia of their religious ceremonial ; and from here thev 
started again on the journey which for forty years was to keep them 
wandering hither and thither in the wilderness, until but three of 
their number should be left to enter into the promised land. 

Oppressed by so many awful recollections, we were not sorry to 
retrace our steps, and go by the more modern route to Joppa and 
Jerusalem. But we must not weary our readers with any more 
of our reveries on this pleasant lecture, to which no written 
account can do justice. We tender to the good Bishop our sin- 
cere thanks for his many kindnesses. 

We acknowledge the receipt of the following exchanges : 
College Mercury, spicy and very readable as a college paper. 
The Columbian Echo, we cannot read, on account of its print. 
The Musical Record is a good weekly and has a good amount 
of valuable matter. 


Kunkel's Musical Review is very good reading, but not very re- 
liable in some of its musical statements. 

The Pee Dee Bee is one of our most acceptable exchanges, and 
is always awake in all matters of interest. 

The Guardian — " Christ and the Church " — is a new church 
paper, which has found its way to our table. It is full of excel- 
lent church matter, and promises to be a valuable addition to 
its class. 

The Old Church Path contains seasonable and earnest words 
for all. We will at once forward subscriptions sent to us, and for 
$1.00 will send it and the Muse for one year. 

The Hurricane has sent us its first blast. It is edited by a 
young lady of twelve years. Excellent. 

The Madisonian— always good. 

The Randolph Macon Monthly — neat and interesting. 

High School News. 

Gathered Sheaves. 

Amateur Advertiser. 


In the Rue Lafitte exhibition a beautifully painted fan, 
labelled " Un AssiegeV' has been sold for 7,000 francs. The art- 
ist was M. Louis Leloir. 

An art sale for the benefit of the Irish sufferers will take place 
sometime during this month at the American Art Rooms, No. 6, 
East Twenty-third street, New York. 

The young ladies at St. Mary's who have been painting placques 
in water color, will be interested to learn that some of the artists 
of Paris have not disdained to occupy themselves in the same 

Charles Clement's work on Michael Angelo, Leonardo and 
Raphael, has been translated into English, and published in Lon- 


don. Of Michael Angelo Mr. Clements says, " He had all the 
characteristics of those extraordinary beings, who owe to circum- 
stances nothing but the possibility of freely developing their 
wonderful faculties." * 

The San Donato sale of pictures at Florence is attracting hosts 
of connoisseurs from all parts of Europe. The palace of Prince 
Demidoff, when the sale takes place, is filled with flowers, bril- 
liant illuminations, and strains of music. Among the notabilities 
who are attending the sale, are Alphonso Rothschild, and Mile. 
Marie Heilbron, the prima donna at the Grand Opera. 

The recent exhibition of the water color society in New York 
has attracted a great deal of attention, and proves that the art of 
painting in water color has advanced with very rapid strides in 
the last few years among our American artists. The pictures by 
A. F. Bellows were particularly admired, though many others 
might be mentioned as excelling in beauty of expression and 
delicacy of coloring. 

An exhibition has just been opened in London, consisting 
entirely of paintings, drawings, and sculptures by members of 
the dramatic profession. The late Charles Matthews is well 
l'epresented, and Mr. Joseph Jefferson sends several charming 
landscapes. Mr. Rendal contributes two portraits, one of which 
was painted in odd moments snatched night, after night from the 
business, or the scant leisure of the theatre. 

A London firm has been exhibiting a new process for copying 
statuary, and specially intended for the enlargement, reduction 
or reproduction of the celebrated statues in the British Museum. 
The instrument employed for copying is simply an enlarged pan- 
tograph, the tracing point is passed over the work to be copied, 
and the other point, which carries a suitable tool, removes the 
surperfluous plaster from the copy. An exact reproduction, or 
an enlarged, or reduced copy is thus obtained, it is said, at a very 
low cost. 



A prize will be given at the end of the scholastic year in June 
to any girl who, honor bright, from her own knowledge or diligent 
research, and without any other assistance whatever, shall have 
sent in the greatest number of correct answers, provided that they 
amount to three-fourths of the whole number of questions pro- 
posed in the series which she may select. The answers, whether 
from St. Mary's or other schools, must be sent in under a pseu- 
donyme, accompanied, in the first instance, by the real name, 
which will be known only to the person in charge of this depart- 
ment, addressed to "The Muse," and indorsed " Prize Questions" 
on the envelope. These are open to any school-girl from any 


41. Give the names of the seven sons of Japhet, and the 
modern nations that have sprung from them ? 

42. What are the Apocryphal books of the New Testament? 

43. The origin of " Athanasins contra mundum? " 

4:4:. By whom and of whom was it written "Thy soul was like 
a star and dwelt apart? " 


41. What Pope caused the Creed to be publicly set forth in 
the church graven on two great silver plates, one in Latin, the 
other in Greek ? 

42. The author of "quod semper quod ubique, quod ab omnibus?' 

43. Who was Joseph Balsamo ? 

44. How many general councils of the Church have been held, 
when, and where? 

45. What Pope sent a crown to one whom he would recognize 
as Emperor, and what was the inscription upon it. 



(Founded 1842.) 





This School now offers inducements such as have never before 
been afforded by any school in the South. 

In addition to its acknowledged PRE-EMINENCE in point of 
the special advantages claimed are : 

1st. A Corps op Twelve Teachers, carefully selected, with 
a view to fitness for their respective positions, and therefore 
thorough, efficient and enthusiastic in their work. 

2nd. A School of Languages, with eight teachers. 

English is regarded as of the first importance, and receives 
special attention in two comprehensive and thorough courses, 
Preparatory and Academic. 

Latin, by a graduate of the University of Virginia. 

French, after Sauveur's conversational method, by a French 
lady whose ability is best shown by the results of her teaching. 

German scholars have the advantage of conversation and 
reading with a highly educated native German. 

3rd. The Best Equipped Musical Department in the 
South, consisting of 16 pianos, a cabinet organ, a magnificent new 
pipe organ of 2 manuals and 20 stops — the largest for school 
purposes in the United States — and the only PEDAL PIANO south 
of New York. Eugene Thayer, the finest pedal player in this 
country, recommends its use as the only way to acquire correct 

4th. The use of Music of the Highest Order, as shown 
by the programmes of the monthly Recitals. 

oth. A Vocal Teacher, from the Eoyal Leipzig Conserva- 
tory. This lady possesses a beautiful soprano voice, thoroughly 
developed. As a proof of her superior cultivation, it is only 
necessary to state that she has sung in the world-renowned 
Gewandhaus concerts. 

6th. An Art Department, lately refitted with the best models 
from Europe, and under the charge of a teacher from Cooper 
Institute, who has had the additional advantage of constant study 
and practice under one of our finest artists. 

The Principal is determined that the advantages offered by St. 
Mary's in every department shall be unsurpassed. 

The 76th Term begins Friday, January 30th, 1880. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars, address the 

St. Mary's School, 


The Department of Music offers great inducements to young- 
ladies wishing to obtain a thorough knowledge of music in all 
its branches. In order to meet the requirements of advanced 
organ instruction, a tine new PIPE ORGAN of TWO MANUELS and 
TWENTY STOPS has been placed in the Chapel, and the only 
Pedal Piano South of New York is at the service of organ stu- 
dents. A vocalist from the Royal Leipzig Conservatory has been 
added to the corps of teachers, and no pains or expense will be 
spared to make this the first musical school in the South. 

Persons outside of the School can make arrangements for 
either Piano, Organ or Vocal Lessons by applying to the Director 
of Music. * 

The South-Atlantic, 


PAUL H. HAYNE, - Editorial Contributor. 

Subscription one year $3. Single Copy, 30c. 


1 page, one year, $120 

h " " 75 

l " " 50 

4 «« 4 

1 page, one insertion, $25 

I " " " 15 



I " 36 I i '.' " " 5 

JUgp^Advertisements on cover pages are charged 50 per cent, 

Persons who order specimen copies must enclose 30 cents. 


Editor and Pbopeietor, Wilmington, N. C. 



Grand, Square Si Upright Piano Fortes and Organs, 

Factory, Cor. St. Peter and Sterrett Sts, Warerooms, 373 ¥. Baltimore St. 

Opp. the Eutaw House. 

These instruments have been prominently before the 
public for the last fifteen years. Their durability, 
their ivorkmanship and their general excel- 
lence in all respects, have gained for them an unpur- 
chased pre-eminence. Constructed of the Very 
Best Material. Every Instrument fully 
guaranteed for five years. 

For illustrated catalogue and references apply to above address. 

Established, in 1"793. 

Is PRE-EMINENT among Southern Boarding Schools 
for Boys in AGE, NUMBERS, ABEA of patronage, and (the 
Superintendent feels safe in adding) in the character and results 
of its combined civil and military DISCIPLINE. 

The catalogue for 1879 will contain more than 160 names, 
from twelve States of the Union, and South America and Asia 
are also represented. 

Board and Tuition, $110 per Session of 20 Weeks. 

For catalogue giving full particulars, address 

Maj. M. BINGHAM, Sup't. 



On the Most Reasonable Terms. 

New Pianos, fully warranted, $225 and upwards. , 

Specifications furnished for Church and Chapel Organs of any 

All kinds of Sheet Music furnished wholesale and retail. 

Parties wishing anything in the musical line should write for 
our terms before purchasing. 


Department of Music, 




Fine Teas, Wines and Liquors, Ales and Porters and 
Groceries and Provisions generally. 

Fayetteville Street, Maleigh, N. C. 





No. 19 Fayetteville Street, 


St. Mary's Muse. 

Vol. II. RALEIGH, N. C, MAY, 1880. No. 9. 





The bells were just chiming for morning repast, 

As Ferguson hied to his home 
In proud Carolina's brave Palace and vast, 

That o'er fair New-Berne reared its tall dome. 
In lofty ceiled chamber, by genius adorned 

With paintings of royalty, grand and serene 
Sat Martin — on whom a few sycophants fawn'd, 

And flattered, and blinded, with assurance I ween, 
While fast from his grasp the frail staff of his pow'r 

Was passing away — in anxiety sat, 
And waited the coming, at that very hour, 

Of the warrior youth who should bear his fiat 
To the bold Scottish chieftains, McDonald, McLeod,* 

Who never to foeman had yielded or bow'd. 

*George Martine, supposed uncle of Ferguson, Colonel in the 
British army. 


" Come hither brave youth !" said his uncle, "with speed — 

Mount ! haste ! at the call of thy country and King. 
From the choice of my stable, go pick thee a steed, 

And haste at Cross Creek, our banners to fling ! 
Thou child of my sister ! what honors be thine ; 

When thou crushest these rebels the fairest domain 
In all this broad land shalt thou hold ; and I'll twine 

Bright laurels of fame round thy brow. No thought of thy 

Shall equal the grandeur and wealth thou shalt gain." 
To which kind address his nephew replied, 
While cautious and crafty the speaker he eyed, 
"Obedient I stand, brave uncle and good, 
To depart on this instant and carry thy word 
To the loyal McDonold. Farewell then, I go — 
And before two more suns thy commands he shall know." 


'Tis night, and the moon in pale majesty smiles 

As her image returns her calm glance from the wave ; 
Now dancing, now gliding, now still, — with her wiles, 

That lure o'er the waters, the timid and brave. 
From a light laughing bark echo music and mirth, 

As New-Berne's fair maids and brave youths glide along 
On the calm flowing Trent ; fairest river of earth, 

On whose verdant banks sweet flowers do throng. 
On an instant, a blackness the heavens o'er casts, 

And anon, the pale moon peeps trembling between 
The thick folds of gloom ; now the bright gleam is past, — 

And now it is dark, and she cannot be seen. 
The timid ones shrink, and their joyousness dies, 

As the dark waters gnrgle the quick oars among ; 
Now swift for the landing the strong boatman plies, 

As the clouds thicken fast and the billows grow strong. 


As the bark shuns the deep and her keel grates the sand, 
An oarsman* strikes out with a powerful arm. 

Now lost in the darkness, no eye from the strand 
Can tell if he lives, or is lost in the storm. 

Beneath the green bank, by thick foliage concealed, 

Lay moored the canoe of fierce Ferguson. 
A flash from the clouds, on his features revealed 

The passion that preyed his dark soul upon. 
" Now would some bright star from the heavens look out, 

" Precursor of good ! bright omen benign ! 
"This sad heart no longer kind fortune would doubt, 

" Would fly to sweet Annie, and bliss should be mine. 
" No fair omen cheers me from yon blacken'd sky — 
" Shine on me O star of my bright destiny ! 
"Burst thy black curtain and lighten my way 
" To the feet of the maiden whose calm gentle sway 
" Shall check this chafed spirit and sooth with her song 
"This soul that hath pined for repose a life-long. 
"Aha! comes the moon, in compassionate zeal, 
" Indignantly spurning the dark clouds that wheel 
"In incessant succession between her fair face 
"And this sad troubled world — the evil one's place. 
"Ah ! there — flashes now the bright star of my hope ; 

" From the bower of my goddess, it blesses my sight ; 
" And ere fair Aurora the rose portals ope, 

"That Phoebus may travel majestic in might — 
"Yes, long ere the rose-curtains rise, that the king 

" Of the morning may know that his chariot is near — 
" The Prize shall be mine ; and proudly I'll fling 

" My reins to good steed, as he gaily shall bear 
"The proudest and bravest and happiest knight 

" That ever sought honor, or won lady — bright." 
With the tread of a conqueror, the green terrace past, 

He ascends to the portal ! Appalling his wrath ! ! ! 

^Ferguson on his way to the dwelling of the fair Annie Bryan. 


He grinds his clenched teeth ; — his brow is o'er cast 

With the wing of the demon that governs his path. 
Now rigid with rage, his large eyes expand — 

Now start from their sockets — a madman he glares— 
And now with dread anger, he lifts up his hand, 

And vengeance on Annie he ruthlessly swears. 
High 'mid the dense boughs the Catalpa extends, 

O'er the dwelling of Annie, sat Ferguson grim, 
With the craft of the tiger his cute hearing bends, 

To catch the soft whispers that breathe not for him. 
Beside her all rapturous, a manly form stands, 

Her bright orbs beam on him with love's certain ray, 
He saw — and fierce Ferguson, wringing his hand 

With rage, swore that light'heart to fill with dismay. 
" O, would I could crush ye this moment, curst pair, 

" O, why grasp I not the swift weapon of death ! 
"Revenge ! sweet revenge! by yon pale moon I swear ! 

" They shall die - in agony dire shall yield up their breath.' 
And now, his strong arm with fierce energy nerved, 

He plies the quick oar, and the waves dashes through ; 
He hastes for his steed, in the gloom unobserved, 

And ere two grey dawns his quick journey drew 
Near the camp of McDonald ; and now his dread ire 

Rose fiercer and fouler, as near him he viewed 
The brave men and daring, with sword and with fire 

Ever ready to battle in liege leader's feud. 

The McDonalds and McLeods had emigrated from Scotland, 
and settled in Cumberland county, on Cross Creek, now Fayette- 
ville. They had fought for the house of Stuart in Scotland, and 
had now sworn allegiance to the house of Brunswick, enlisted in 
the British army, and propose to fight against American Inde- 
pendence. Though it is said that after the battle of Moore's 
Creek they repented their treachery, and offered their swords to 
the Americans. 




Donald McDonald,* the Highland chief bold, 
Stood in his hall, whence he straight could behold 
Who advanced up the hill from the forest of pines, 
Or daringly ventured to pass the confines 
Of his lordly domain. His eagle-eye glanced 
Quick as light on the horseman who eager advanced, 
As if press'd by some foe ; or else to impart, 
Some errand of danger to friend of his heart, 
His country or King ; or perchance to defy 
To mortal encounter who ne'er did deny 
To foe or to friends his strong arm, and true. 
All foaming his steed ; with a slacken'd pace drew 
The rider his rein ; and now with hot haste 
He springs to the ground, as if fearing to waste 
One moment that press'd on the danger or weal 
Of the cause that demanded his arm and his steel. 
" I greet thee, brave chief," said the warrior youth, 
As he bow'd to McDonald ; " but it grieves me in truth 
" To impart the sad errand my duty demands 
" To the erst happy dwellers on these peaceful lands. 
" The rebels have risen ; and are now at the door 
" Of the Governor, defying our sovereign's power. 
" Their lawless Assembly, at this moment, dare 
" To threaten my uncle, and bid him prepare 
" To yield up allegiance, or fly for his life. 
" What else can he do ? While rebellion is rife — 
' No army supports him — and friends has he none. 
" It is better to fly than, a traitor undone, 

*The brother of the famous Flora McDonald. 


" To crouch and betray to the curst rebel hounds 

" His King and his country, while echo rebounds 

" With his shame and disgrace. No! sooner he'll die, 

" Than fasten such blot on his integrity !" 

" Welcome ! most welcome, brave youth to this hall, 

"The home of McDonald, the loyal and true ; 

" For his King and his country his loud trumpet's call 

" Shall wake up his warriors, till echo renew 

" Their loyal huzza and gladsome halloo. 

" With speed shall be quelle'd the vain braggart boast 

" Of these craven traitors; and England's dread host 

" Shall cover their lands as the locusts of yore, 

" Till no germ of falsehood shall vegetate more. 

" And full time it is that our vengeance should rise, 

" When their impious resolves now ascend to the skies 

"From old Mecklenburg,* where our sovereign is dared, 

" And free independence to rebels declared. 

" Then haste we good youth, our allegiance to show, 

" And lay these vain boasters in infamy low." 

Thus spake the fierce chieftain, and then with a smile 

To Ferguson turned ; in all kindness the while, 

Invited the youth to good cheer and repose, 

For rest had he none since two suns arose. 

" And here," said the Brave as he drew from his breast 

A parchment with seal of authority press'd; 

" And here — Noble Chief, a commission I bring, 

" To Gen'ral McDonald from our gracious King. 

" My uncle, brave Martin, from New-Berne ere now, 

" Has fled to Cape Fear, where our banner still waves 

" From the masts of the Cruiser, and sooner their graves 

" Will he and his compeers invite, than behold 

" x "The Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence was made on 
the 20th of May, 1775, as proved by fourteen eye and ear wit- 
nesses, and copies in distinguished and reliable hands. — Hawks' 
History of North Carolina. 


" That proud flag succumb to base rebels and bold. 

" Yet fears has he none, as he bade me declare, 

" In McDonald he trusts, and his foes he will dare 

"To their worst, when your Scots join the resolute band 

"That from England's good ships will speedily land, 

" Led on by Lord Campbell, and Clinton the brave, 

" And Parker, renowned on the broad ocean wave. 

" He bids me entreat thee to haste with all speed, 

" And thy brave Scottish band with quick diligence lead 

" To the moutli of Cape Fear; there with ease he can crush 

" These rebels. Their strength, to his power compared, is a rush." 

Thus spake the brave youth, and McDonald the bold 

Responded in darings and threat'nings tenfold. 




Now quick flew the tidings adown Cape Fear River, 

McDonald was hasting with broad-sword to shiver 

Our meaner-wrought blades of American steel. 

And will Carolina's stout champions falter 

To lay their proud hearts and good swords on the altar 

Of Heaven-born Freedom — their glad vows to seal ? 

No — in their own hearts-blood the compact is written, 

To conquer — or die — by their tyrant lords smitten, 

Ere writhe in the horrors of slavery's chain. 

No ! triumph they must. Now throughout their firm column 

The watch-word is, "Ready!" With quick step and solemn 

They hail the wish'd "Charge!" — from their Lillington's voice. 

The Pibroch is sounding, the Tartans are flaunting, 


And boasting McLeod* the Scotch bravery is vaunting, 

And rashly advancing the frailf bridge upon. 

Alas ! for McDonald !J who painfully lingers 

Beneath the still tent, where listless his fingers 

No more grasp his broad-sword or death-dealing gun. 

Brave words to his troops by quick messengers sending, 

He trusts to inspire and their pliant wills bending, 

To act out the deeds of his murderous hand. 

But vain is his effort ; — a thundering volley 

Of musketry covers the doomed men, whose folly 

Too late is discovered to rescue the band. 

And now, from the dense files of patriots pouring, 

A hail-storm of shot every Highlander lowering, 

And with them McLeod to the earth is o'erthrown. 

Carolinians triumph ! the Tories are routed ! 

While the right of their cause, by no honest man doubted, 

Brave Caswell and Lillington proudly make known. 

To Caswell's calm wisdom all praise be awarded; 

And to Lillington's ready maneuvering is due 

That their lov'd Carolina's bright honor was guarded, 

And her sons in their first fight proved valiant and true. 

With nought now to damp their tried valor they gather 

Around their brave leaders from mountain to coast, 

And shoulder to shoulder stand forth son and father, 

Resolved to be free — while in heaven they trust. 

To heaven they look for protection and guidance, 

In heaven they felt that their foes were condemned, 

From heaven they knew must come their deliverance, 

From unrighteous thraldom by heaven contemned. 

*Descended from McLeod of St. Kilda, who was descended 
from Princes of Norway. 

fThe bridge gave way and the Scots were overthrown. 

^Tradition tells us that the sickness of McDonald was feigned, 
notwithstanding his boasting. Conscience restrained him. His 
ingratitude to Americans stung him too deeply, it was thought 
by many. 


Escaped from the slaughter, the bloody marauder 

Fierce Ferguson flies with his band of outlaws, 
To rocky King's Mount on our far southern borders 

And blackmail from every unguarded home draws. 
There high 'mid the steeps of that cavern-cleft mountain, 

The fierce Highland ruffian no venging hand fears ; 
He ruthlessly revels, though many a fountain 

Of grief has he opened, deep flowing with tears. 
At his dread approach the young maidens tremble, 

The aged lift piteous hands up in vain, 
Their peaceful abodes in flames are enveloped, 

And every one breathing is savagely slain. 
The cries of the innocent now rise to heaven 

For speedy redress from their merciless foe, 
And never unheard has the suppliant striven, 

Who kneels in firm faith and humility low. 

[to be continued.] 



CHAPTER IV— Continued. 

On the second day of their journey they spent the night at a 
lonely house, noted for its vicinity to a mighty water-fall. They 
had travelled far that day, and the two ladies were utterly worn 
out. When they reached the house the pastor and his wife en- 
tered at once, without trying to penetrate further into the valley, 
although the noise of the cataract was distinctly audible. Mar- 
lina, too, was exhausted, but she wished to follow Clement, who 

Note. — Towns were devastated, persons plundered, houses 
burned, and families either murdered or driven from their 
homes without pity. 


did not yet care to go in. So the two again descended the steps, 
and ever clearer, as they advanced, sounded the roar of the falls. 

Half way down a steep hill, Marlina's strength gave way. " I 
will sit down here," she said, " go on to the water-fall, and when 
you have seen all you care to, come back to me." He begged 
her to let him first carry her into the house ; but she had already 
seated herself, so he left her and went on towards the cataract, 
filled even more and more with a happy awe at the loneliness 
and grandeur of the place. 

The girl sat upon a stone and awaited his return ; it seemed to 
her that he would never come. An icy coldness seemed to en- 
fold her, and the roar of the falls made her shudder. " Why 
does he not come !" she said to herself. " He has forgotten me 
in his joy, as he always does. How I wish I could find my 
way into the house, and get warm." So she sat and listened in- 
tently to the distant sounds. 

Suddenly it seemed to her that she could distinguish his voice 
calling her. Trembling, she rose. What should she do? In- 
voluntarily she took a step forward, but her foot slipped, she 
tottered and fell. Fortunately the stones near the path were 
covered with moss. Her fall deprived her of all strength, but 
she called loudly for Clement. 

Her voice did not reach him, as he stood near the edge of the 
cliff over which the cataract dashed. The house, also, was too 
far distant. A feeling of sharp agony darted through Marlina's 
heart, as she lay between the stones forsaken and helpless. With 
tears of despair in her eyes, she raised herself slowly and with 
great difficulty. All that had ever been dearest to her, appeared 
at that moment hateful, and the bitterness that inwardly con- 
sumed her deprived her of the comforting thought of God's 

Thus was she found by Clement, who for her sake, had forci- 
bly torn himself away from the enchantment of the mighty 

" I am coming," he called out to her, while yet some distance 
off. " I am glad now that you did not go with me ; the place on 


which one stands to look over, is so narrow that the slightest 
mistake would prove fatal. It made me tremble to see the water 
dash down until it reached the rocks below, and then boil and 
seethe, sending up clouds of spray. Just feel how wet I am. 
But what is the matter with you ? You are as cold as ice, and 
your lips are trembling ; come, it was wrong for you to remain in 
the open air ; God grant you may not be made sick from it." 

Marlina remained obstinately silent, and let him lead her back 
to the house. The pastor's wife was frightened at her aspect. 
The delicate, clearly cut features of the girl were distorted. A 
warm drink was quickly prepared for her, and she was put to 
bed, nothing further being elicited from her than that she felt 

Truly she was sick, — so sick that she longed for death. She 
hated life, so adverse to her. With bitter and rebellious thoughts, 
she lay on her bed, angrily striving to break the last thread that 
bound her to life. " I will go out to-morrow," she said. "He 
himself shall lead me to the place where one false step will cost 
me my life. Little matters my life to him. Why should he 
carry further the burden which through pity he has borne so 
far ?" Ever more closely she nourished in her heart this evil 
resolution. What had become of her secret, bright courage which 
had supported her during the months of her greatest grief? She 
thought of the consequences of her intended crime without pain, 
and frequently said to herself, " Then they will see how I have 
borne the knowledge that I must always be blind. And he will 
have no more before his eyes, the sad image which destroyed his 
pleasure in this beautiful world." That was always the last 
thought which came to her when there occurred to her a doubt 
as to whether her resolution was right. In the adjoining room, 
which was separated from Marlina's only by a thin partition, 
sat the pastor and his wife. Clement was lingering without un- 
der the trees ; he could not tear himself away from the moun- 
tains and the stars, and the sweet music of the water. 

" It worries me," said the pastor's wife, " to see Marlina so 
weak and pining. She trembles for the slightest cause; she can- 


not live if this extreme weakness continue. I wish you would 
speak to her and urge her not to take the inevitable so terribly to 
heart." " I only fear that I will effect nothing," answered the 
pastor. " If her education, the love of her parents and our daily 
care have not spoken to her, the words of man can do nothing 
further. If she felt true humility towards God, she would bear 
this affliction which has left her still so much, with thankfulness 
instead of murmurs." 

" But He has taken much from her." " True, but not forever ! 
That is my hope and my prayer." 

" The power to love, and esteem above all things the love of 
God and man, seems to have departed from her. But it will 
return to her if she returns to God. In her present state of 
mind she does not long for Him. She hugs too closely her ill- 
humour and repining thoughts. But her heart is too true to 
allow those evil companions to remain in it long. Then, when 
discontent has left her, God will again enter her heart, and love 
will find there once more its old station. And all within shall 
be as the day even though night rest upon her eyes." 

" God grant it ! and yet thoughts of her future continually 
worry me." " She will not be lost if she does not lose herself. 
Even though all who love and protect her should be taken away 
still love would not die, and if she will only rightly esteem the 
the Hand of God and the path through which He leads her, she 
will one day bless her blindness, which has urged her from her 
earliest years to seek the true light." 

Clement interrupted the conversation. " You cannot imagine," 
he called out from the doorway, " what a wonderfully beautiful 
night it is. I would part with one of my eyes if I could give it 
to Marlina so that she might see the glory of the stars. If the 
noise of the water-fall would only let her sleep ! I cannot yet 
forgive myself for having let her sit out in the open air." 

" Speak more softly, my son," said the mother, "she is asleep 
in the next room. The best thing you can do is to go to sleep 
too." The boy told them good-night in a whisper. When the 
mother went into Marlina's room she found her quiet, and to all 


appearances sleeping. The discontented expression of her 
countenance had given way to a gentle sotfness. The storm had 
passed and nothing within her was the worse for it. Even shame 
and repentance did not overwhelm her, so entirely was she filled 
with the joyful peace of which the good pastor had spoken in her 
hearing. Evil acquires the mastery slowly, and with all the 
subtleties and cunning wiles of a serpent, the conquest of good 
is quickly gained. 

[to be continued.] 



The mountains of the Caucasus have been for a long time in- 
cluded within the Russian Empire, without actually belonging to 
it. Their fierce inhabitants, separated by language and by divers 
interests, form a great number of small tribes, which have few 
political relations among themselves, but are all animated by the 
same love of independence and of pillage. One of the most numer- 
ous and most formidable of these tribes, is that of the Tchetchen- 
ges, which inhabits the great and the little Kabarda provinces, 
whose high valleys extend even to the summits of the Caucasus. 
The men of these provinces are handsome, courageous and intelli- 
gent, but thievish and cruel, and in a state of continual warfare 
with the troops of the line. It is in the midst of these danger- 
ous hordes, and in the very centre of this immense chain of 
mountains that Russia has established a way of communication 
with her Asiatic possessions. Forts, erected here and there 
along the road, serve as a protection as far as Georgia ; but no 
travelers would venture alone across the country which lie be- 
tween them. 

Twice a week, a convoy of infantry, furnished with cannon and 


accompanied by a considerable party of Cossacks, escorts travelers 
and bears the government dispatches. One of these fortifications, 
situated at the foot of the mountains, has become a small borough, 
rather thickly populated. Its situation has given it the name of 
Waldi-Caucase : here resides the commander of the troops who 
perform the dangerous service of which we have just spoken. 

Major Kascambo, of the regiment Wologda, a Russian noble- 
man of a family originally from Greece, was to take command of 
the post of Lars, in the gorges of the Caucasus. Impatient to 
repair to his post, and brave even to rashness, he had the im- 
prudence to undertake this journey with an escort of about fifty 
of the Cossacks under his command, and the still greater impru- 
dence to speak and boast of his project before its execution. The 
Tchetchenges who are near the frontiers and are called the peace- 
ful Tchetchenges, are submissive to Russia, and consequently 
have free access to Mosdok ; but the greater part preserve rela- 
tions with the mountaineers, and very often join in their rob- 
beries. The latter, informed of the journey of Kascambo and of 
the very day of his departure, gathered in great numbers on his 
route and constructed an ambuscade. 

At twenty verstes* from Mosdok, at the turn of a little hill, 
covered with bushes, Kascambo was attacked by seven hundred 
horsemen. Retreat was impossible ; the Cossacks dismounted 
and sustained the attack with much firmness, hoping to be re-in- 
forced by the troops from a fort not far distant. 

The inhabitants of the Caucasus, although individually very 
brave, do not understand the attack " en masse," and consequently 
can ill oppose a trained company, but they have good arms, and 
aim correctly. Their great number, on this occasion rendered the 
combat too unequal. After a considerable discharge of musketry, 
more than half the Cossacks were killed or placed hors de combat ; 
the rest had made, with the dead horses, a circular rampart, be- 
hind which they fired their last cartridges. The Tchetchenges, 
who always have with them in their expeditions some Russian 

*A verste=3,501 feet. 


deserters, whom they use when necessary as interpreters, cried 
to the Cossacks : " Deliver the Major to us, or you shall be killed 
to a man." Kascambo seeing the certain loss of his troopers, 
resolved to give himself up so as to save the lives of those who 
remained. He gave his sword to his Cossacks, and advanced 
alone toward the Tchetchenges, whose fire immediately ceased, 
their only object being to take him prisoner in order to obtain a 
ransom. Scarcely was he delivered to the enemy, when he saw 
approaching in the distance, the re-inforcements sent to his relief. 
It was too late ; the brigands hurried him away. His denchik* 
had remained behind with the mule which bore the equipage of 
the Major. Concealed in a ravine, he awaited the issue of the com- 
bat, when the Cossacks found him and related the misfortunes of 
his master. The brave fellow instantly resolved to share his 
fate ; leading his mule, he proceeded in the direction in which 
the Tchetchenges had retreated, being guided by the tracks of 
the horses. 

When he was beginning to lose his way in the darkness, he 
met a straggler of the enemy, who conducted him to the rendez- 
vous of the Tchetchenges. One can imagine the emotion which 
the prisoner felt on seeing his denchik coming voluntarily to 
share his unhappy fate. 

The Tchetchenges instantly distributed as booty the baggage 
which he brought. They only left to the Major a guitar, which 
they found among his equipments, and gave him in derision. 
Ivan (this was the name of the denchik) took possession of it, 
and refused to give it up, as his master advised. " Why should 
we be discouraged," he said to him, " the God of the Russians is 
great ; it is to the interest of the brigands to preserve you ; they 
will not harm you." After a halt of some hours, the horde was 
going to resume its march, when one of its men who had just 
arrived, announced that the Russians were continuing to advance, 
and that probably the troops from the other fortifications would 
unite in order to pursue them. 

*Soldier servant. 


The chiefs took counsel. It was necessary to conceal their 
retreat, not only for the purpose of holding their prisoner, 
but also in order to turn aside the enemy from their villages, 
and thus avoid their vengeance. The horde dispersed by divers 
roads. Ten men on foot were appointed to conduct the 
prisoner, while one hundred horsemen remained together and 
marched in a different direction from that which Kascambo 
was to follow. They took from the latter his iron-bound boots, 
which would have left an unmistakable imprint on the ground, 
and they obliged him, as well as Ivan, to walk bare-footed 
during a part of the morning. Having arrived near a stream, 
the little party, went up along the banks on the grass, for 
the distance of half a mile, and descended in the part where 
the banks were steepest, in the midst of thorny bushes, carefully 
avoiding leaving any trace of their passage. The Major was so 
fatigued that, in order to bring him to the stream, it was necessary 
to support him with ropes. His feet were bleeding ; they decided 
to give him his boots, that he might finish the journey. When 
they arrived at the first village, Kascambo, more worn with anx- 
iety than with fatigue, appeared to his guards so feeble and so 
exhausted that they feared for his life, and treated him more 

They allowed him to rest, and gave him a horse for the journey ; 
but in order to mislead the Russians in the search they might 
make, and to render the prisoner unable to give his friends infor- 
mation of the place of his retreat, they conveyed him from vil- 
lage to village, and from one valley to another, frequently taking 
the precaution to bandage his eyes. In this condition he crossed 
a very large river, which he supposed to be Sonja. They cared 
for him well during these trips, by giving him sufficient food 
and the necessary rest. But when he had reached the distant 
village in which he was to be finally imprisoned, the Tchetchen- 
ges suddenly changed their conduct towards him, and made him 
endure all kinds of ill treatment. They placed irons on his 
hands and feet, and a chain around his neck, to the end of which 
was attached an oaken block. 


The denchik was treated less severely ; his irons were lighter, 
and permitted him to render some services to his master. With 
each new insult which he received, a man who spoke Russian 
came to see him and advised him to write to his friends in order 
to obtain his ransom, which they fixed at ten thousand rubles. 
The unhappy prisoner was unable to pay so large a sum, and had 
no other hope than the protection of the government, which had 
ransomed some years previous a Colonel, fallen like himself, into 
the hands of the brigands. The interpreter promised to furnish 
him with paper, and to insure the delivery of his letter, but after 
having obtained his consent he did not re-appear for several days, 
and that time was employed in forcing upon the Major an in- 
crease of hardships. They deprived him of food ; took away the 
mat on which he slept, and a Cossack saddle-cushion which served 
for a pillow. Finally, when the interpreter returned, he an- 
nounced to him in a confidential manner, that if his friends re- 
fused the sum demanded, or if they delayed payment, the Tchet- 
chenges were determined to kill him, in order to spare the ex- 
expense and uneasiness which he had caused them. The aim of 
their cruel conduct was to compel him to write in the most press- 
ing manner. They finally gave him paper and a pointed reed, 
according to Tartaric custom. They removed the irons which 
bound his hands and neck, that he might write freely ; and when 
the letter was written and translated to the chiefs, they undertook 
to send it to the commander of the line. After that Kascambo 
was treated less severely, and was loaded with but one chain, 
which bound his foot and right hand. 

His host, or rather his jailer, was an old man of sixty years, of 
gigantic statue and ferocious aspect, which his character did not 
contradict. Two of his sons had been killed in an encounter with 
the Russians, a circumstance which led to his being chosen among 
all the inhabitants of the village, as the prisoner's keeper. The 
family of this man, called Ibrahim, was composed of the widow 
of one of his sons, aged thirty-five years, and a young child of 
seven or eight years, called Mamet. The woman was as ill- 
natured and more capricious than the old keeper. Kascambo's 


sufferings were great, but the caresses and child-like confidence 
of the young Mamet, were a distraction and even a real comfort 
in his misfortunes. This child felt such a great affection for him, 
that the threats and the harsh treatment of his grandfather could 
not prevent him from coming to play with the prisoner whenever 
he found the opportunity. He had given the latter the name of 
Koniak, which in the language of that country signifies a guest 
and a friend. He shared with him, in secret, the fruits which 
he procured, and during the forced abstinence which they had 
compelled the Major to endure, Mamet, touched with compassion, 
skilfully took advantage of the momentary absence of his parents 
to carry him some bread and potatoes, baked in the ashes. Some 
months had passed since the sending of the letter, without any 
remarkable event. 

During this interval Ivan had gained the good will of the wo- 
man and of the old man, or at least had succeeded in rendering 
himself necessary to them. He understood all the arts pertain- 
ing to the table of an officer. He mixed the kislitchi* marvel- 
ously well, dressed the salted cucumbers, and had accustomed 
his hosts to the little delicacies which he introduced into their 


(to be continued.) 



Ridicule was his favorite weapon in bringing any custom of 
which he disapproved into public disrepute ; and many a one did 
he laugh out of existence with grim, lumbering, elephantine 
humour. The priests looked with sour visages on all his reforms, 
and indeed the sympathy of the people was rather with them 
than with him. The following was the device he adopted to re- 

*A kind of beer. 


instate himself in public favour and turn the laugh against the 
clergy, who had been advancing what are now called Ultramon- 
tane claims. His object in this story was to poke fun at the office 
of Patriarch, which the priests and people desired, against 
Peter's wish, to have revived. He resolved to create his clown, 
who was in his eighty-fourth year, a kind of mock patriarch. It 
was determined to marry this motley, and a strapping widow of 
thirty was chosen as his bride. Four poor stutterers, who took 
a quarter of an hour to get their tongues round each word, were 
victimised by being sent round to invite the guests, a deep 
draught of brandy having previously been administered to pro- 
mote their fluency of utterance. Four fellows with tremendous 
physical exaggerations, fat, inflated, and clumsy, were appointed 
to run as heralds and footmen ; their movements, also, being 
made erratic by drink. A few helpless paralytics and lamesters 
were deputed to play the part of bridesmen and waiters. The 
open carriage in which the young couple made their glorious 
procession to church, amid drums beating, banners flying, discor- 
dant instruments playing, was dragged by four roaring and 
frightened bears, amid the uncontrollable laughter of the popu- 
lace. To crown all, the marriage between this Patriarch of the 
Church and this poor victimised widow was celebrated by a 
toothless and wrinkled centenarian priest, deaf and blind, for 
whom the aid of a prompter had to be provided. On such a 
grand scale of hospitality was this state marriage conducted that 
there was hardly a sober person to be found in the whole city of 
Moscow ; and the Czar brought it to a climax by giving an enter- 
tainment at the senate house, where each guest was forced, pro- 
bably under the threat of Siberia, to quaff the contents of the 
' double-eagle.' Again and again was this heavy horse-play re- 
peated, till the office of patriarch became associated with ridicule 
in the minds of the populace forever. And what kind of soci- 
ety must that have been where such a scene as the following 
could be looked on as proper ? Previous to the Czar's ordinance 
by which mixed assemblages became compulsory, the ladies and 
gentlemen met in separate rooms. At one of the grand dinners 


given by the Czar, a huge pie was placed in the centre of the 
gentleman's table, out of which, when tbe startled carver broke 
crust, a beautiful dwarf lady, in puris naturalibus, all except a 
head-dress, stepped, proposed in a set speech and drank in a glass 
of wine the health of the company, and then retired into her 
snug retreat and was carried from the table. A man dwarf was 
substituted at the ladies' table. Did not Peter say he could re- 
form his people, but not himself? A dinner-party of the Czar's 
must indeed have been a sight not conceivable out of Bed- 
lam, and could only have been planned in the maddest brain on 
earth, if a MS. among the Sloane papers in the British Museum 
is believable. Such practical jokes ! such wild, grotesque gam- 
bolling ! the frolics of leviathan ! the laughter of a Titan, as 
frightful in his fun as in his fury ! There was accommodation 
at the Czar's table for about a hundred ; but the grim humourist 
always issued invitations to twice or thrice that number, and left 
his guests to elbow, jostle, and fight for chairs and places, and 
retain them against all comers and claimants if they could. Not 
imfrequently a free fight was extemporised, and noses tapped, and 
even the sacred persons of ambassadors have been profanely 
touched and trifled with. The Czar sat at the head of the table, 
a broad grin on his face, rolling the spectacle like a sweet morsel 
under his tongue. The guests are so closely packed that feeding- 
room is not to be thought of, and ribs are often blackened and 
almost driven by inactive and vigorous elbows, provoking fierce 
recriminations and quarrels. The kitchen is so near to the din- 
ing-hall that there floats through the latter a fragrance of onions, 
garlic, and train oil, mellowed and tempered by the more delici- 
ous aroma of the roast. The more knowing and initiated guests 
wave away soups and such-like edibles, and manifest a special 
appetite for tongues, hams, and viands that cannot be tampered 
with, or made the vehicles of practical joking, for as often as not 
it happens that a bunch of dead mice will be drawn out of the 
soup or discovered snugly embedded in a dish of green peas ; and 
sometimes, when his guests have well partaken of certain pas- 
tries, the Czar will courteously inquire if the cat, wolf, raven, or 


other unclean animal proved a savoury or delicious morsel, with 
what result let the imaginative guess. The approach to a regular 
Donnybrook was hastened on by liberal supplies of brandies, 
strong ales, and wines so adroitly served out as to expedite the 
grand climateric of drunkenness. But one plate was allowed to 
each guest ; and if, reserving his appetite for some sweeter dish, 
he left off when but one-half of his serving of soup, or raven, or 
roast was consumed, it was a serious perplexity how he was to 
get rid of the rejected victuals and get his plate cleansed for a 
new supply. There was nothing for it but to empty the contents 
on his neighbor's plate ; and then followed a game of battledore 
and shuttlecock, ending in blows, till the more peacefully dis- 
posed of the two bowlers threw the bone of contention under the 
table, wiping his plate with his finger, and giving it a final polish 
with the tablecloth. A loving and brotherly frame of temper 
having thus been diffused throughout the festive throng, the Czar 
decrees that no one is to leave the filthy, crowded and heated 
room till midnight, the dinner having begun at noon ; but before 
the parting hour arrives, the guests, between the loss of blood 
and loss of wit, are incapacitated for leaving, and make their 
beds promiscuously where they fall. Was ever such a lawless, 
chaotic orgy seen in a royal palace on earth since Belshazzar's 
feast, or will it ever be seen again ? ' Nature brings not back 
the mastodon,' nor Peter the Great. 

M. de Staehlin, giving an account of his ordinary manner of 
life, especially in his latter years, says that his table was frugal, 
that he preferred plain fare ; hot-potch, roast pork or beef, and 
cheese, washed down by a little beer or the red wines of France 
and Hungary. He could not eat fish ; and in his early youth 
he lived chiefly on fruits, pasteries and farinaceous diets. He 
usually dined atone in the afternoon, after which he retired to his 
bed-room for a couple of hours' sleep ; and at four he revised 
the work of the forenoon. Summer and winter alike, he rose at 
four in the morning, and after a light and hasty breakfast devoted 
his attention to affairs of State. He acquired a taste for strong 
liquors in his youth ; and his taste, it was alledged, was rather 


fostered than curbed by his sister Sophia, who was regent during 
his minority, and who had designs on the throne herself. 
His carousals, of which he often boasted, were frequent and deep ; 
but M. de Staehlin represents him in his latter years as having 
over-mastered the vicious craving. Hot pepper and brandy was 
his favorite tipple for a while. He was in England for four 
months finishing his shipbuilding education, and he and his shop- 
mates often retired to a public house near Tower Hill to recruit 
their exhausted energies with beer and brandy. In compliment 
to Peter, Boniface christened his house ' The Czar of Muscovy.' 
Here is the bill of fare of another of Peter's dinners, eaten this 
time in England ; it is recorded in a letter from Mr. Humphrey 
Wanley to Dr. Charlett, and is preserved among the papers of 
Ballard's collection in the Bodleian Library : — ■' I cannot,' says 
Mr. Wanley, ' vouch for the following bill of fare which the Czar 
and his company of twenty-one ate at Godliming, in Surrey, but 
it is attested by an eye-witness who saw them eating, and who had 
it from the landlord. Breakfast : half a sheep, a quarter of lamb, 
ten pullets, twelve chickens, three quarts of brandy, six quarts of 
wine, and seven dozens of eggs, with salad in proportion.' A 
goodly breakfast, surely ! but listen to the dinner : ' Five ribs of 
beef, 42 lbs. in all, one sheep, 56 lbs., three quarters of lamb, a 
shoulder and loin of boiled veal, eight pullets, eight rabbits, two 
and a half dozen of sack, a dozen of claret.' The Czar's visit 
must have seriously disturbed the meat markets of England if 
this is the record, not of a feast, but of an every-day meal. 

In personal appearance Peter was tall and robust, quick and 
nimble of foot, and dexterous and rapid in all his movements. 
His face was plump and round. His eyes were large and bright, 
with brown eyebrows. His hair was short and curling and of a 
brownish colour. His look was fierce and restless, his gait quick 
and swinging. That superfine and satirical young lady, Wilhel- 
mina, Margravine of Baireuth, describes him as tall and well-made. 
'His countenance,' she says, 'is beautiful, but has something in it so 
rude and savage as to fill you with fear.' When she saw him dur- 
ing his visit to Frederick William's Court in 1717, he was dressed 
like a sailor, in a frock without lace or ornament. A fine, noble, 


heroic face the portraits represent him as having ; only his gross 
eating and deep drinking, and low morals, had impaired its 
majesty, and given it rather a sensual and fallen expression. 
From his youth he had been subject to a spasmodic affection of 
the nerves which always attacked him in his hour of rage. It is 
said to have resulted from a fright he received in early boyhood ; 
some rebel soldiers forced their way into the convent where he 
was brought up, and flashed their naked swords round his head. 
The spasms showed themselves by a contortion of the muscles of 
the neck and of his face. Dining at Berlin, Wilhelmina tells 
how such an attack took place. ' At table, the Czar was placed 
beside the Queen,' Wilhelmina's mother. 'There took him a 
kind convulsion, something like Tic, or St. Vitus, which he 
seemed quite unable to control. He got into contortions and ges- 
ticulated wildly, and brandished about his knife within a yard of 
the Queen's face, who, in great alarm, made several times as if to 
rise. The Czar begged her to retain her composure as he would 
not hurt her, and took her by the hand and grasped it so violently 
that she shrieked out in pain. The Czar laughed heartily, and 
added that she had not bones of so hard a texture as his Catharine.' 
' After supper a grand ball was opened, which the Czar evaded, 
and, leaving the others to dance, walked alone homewards to 
Mon Bijou,' a palace which Frederick William had placed at his 
disposal, and in which the Czar and his suite made fearful havoc, 
almost breaking the thrifty King's heart. The sight of a beetle, 
it, is alleged, had the effect of throwing him into such a fit, and 
the sight of a beautiful young woman had the effect of tak- 
ing him out of one. M. de Staehlin says that when the Czar was 
so attacked the Empress was instantly sent for, and failing her, 
the first young lady that came in the way was .conducted to the 
Czar's apartment ; and, as if she had been sent for, was introduced 
with the formal announcement, ' Peter Alexievitz, this is the 
person you desired .to speak with.' The soft voice and agreeable 
conversation and sweet presence of the charmer had such an 
effect on the Czar, that instantly the convulsion ceased and he was 
himself again, his visage calm and his humour sweet. Would 


that this had been the only spell or exorcism that such a presence 
could wield over him, but it seemed to awake more devils than it 
expelled. Peter's flesh was rebellious — by no means obedient to 
the higher sovereignties of his nature. The Czar and Czarina 
during their visit to Berlin were attended by a suite of ladies — 
ladies on the one hand, and washerwomen, cooks, housemaids, on 
the other, as circumstances required- — almost every one of whom 
carried in her arms a richly robed child. On its paternity being 
inquired after, the chameleon mother replied, ' Le Czar m'a fait 
l'honneur de me faire cet enfant.' The following story shows 
both the weak and the, good side of Peter's character. He fell 
in love with a beautiful young lady of the bourgeoisie class 
residing at Moscow, and commanded her father to send her to 
his court. In horror and despair, the girl, without letting her 
parents know her intentions, left her home at the dead of night 
and sought shelter in the house of her old nurse. The Czar 
stormed and raved, and threatened her parents with Siberia un- 
less they at once produced her. Their grief for their lost child 
at last persuaded even the Czar that they were innocent of the 
crime of thwarting his will. A ' hue and cry ' was raised, and 
so large were the rewards offered for her recovery, that the whole 
country joined in an ineffectual search. The husband of her pro- 
tector had built a hut of logs, thatched with brackens, on an oasis 
in the centre of a marsh surrounded by thick woods. Here she 
lived alone for a year, seeing no one except the woodman and his 
wife, who carried food to her in the dead of night. Here one 
day she was discovered by a huntsman, a colonel in the army, 
who had wandered far in pursuit of game. He entered into con- 
versation with her, and her cultured voice and refined manner 
betrayed that she was not the peasant maiden her dress repre- 
sented her to be. He taxed her with being Peter's lost heroine. 
In great fear she confessed ; and, on her knees, with a broken 
voice, pleaded that he would not betray her hiding-place. He 
assured her that all danger was passed, that Peter had forgotten 
her, and that she might return to her home. What experienced 
novel-reader cannot guess the rest of the story ? The colonel 


took the news home to her sorrowing parents; but he did more, 
for he told the story to the Empress Catharine, and that kindly 
lady at once agreed to inform the Czar of the poor girl's suffer- 
ings, and ask His Majesty to forgive her. Peter had the rare 
virtue of being able to forgive those he had wronged. He at 
once settled a pension of 3,000 roubles a year on the girl, gave 
her the colonel for a husband, provided such a marriage feast as 
only a Czar can, gave away the bride, and congratulated the 
colonel on having secured the most virtuous woman in Russia as 
his wife. Captain Bruce, who was military tutor to the Czar's 
eldest son, testifies that this story, romantic though it seems, is 
true, and that he had it from the heroine's own lips. 

The history of the Czarina Catharine is equally romantic. She 
was a mild, loving, kindly woman ; and her influence over her 
irascible and savage husband was always on the side of mercy, 
and never used to inflame his fiery temper. Many a head did 
she save from the gallows, and many a back from the knout. 
The Margravine of Baireuth describes her as ' short and lusty, 
and remarkably course, without grace or animation. At first 
sight, any one would have judged her to be a third-rate German 
actress. Her clothes looked as though made for a big doll, they 
were so old-fashioned and decked with tinsel. Along the facing 
of her gown were orders and little things of metal; a dozen 
orders, and as many portraits of saints, of relics, and the like ; so 
that when she walked it was with a jingling, as if you heard a 
mule with bells to its harness,' a description which must be liber- 
ally discounted to get at the truth. The Margravine saw oddi- 
ties wherever she looked, and was smart first and truthful after- 
wards. In her early life the Czarina's name was Martha. Her 
mother was a Livonian serf. She was left an orphan at the age 
of three. A Lutheran clergyman named Gluck saw her at the 
house of the priest of her native parish, who seemed to have 
constituted himself the guardian of the poor, friendless orphan, 
and took her into his house in the capacity of nurse or 'slavey.' 
In exchange for her services she received her food, a fair educa- 
tion, and her clothing. As she grew up to girlhood she had her 


fair share of admirers, of whom she specially favoured a Livonian 
sergeant of the Swedish army. The day after their marriage 
the town of Marienburg was stormed by the Russians, and 
Martha's sergeant slain. As the captives filed past the Russian 
General Bauer, Martha's grief, tears, beauty and youth provoked 
his sympathy. Learning her story, he took her into his own 
household as housekeeper and mistress. Here Prince Menzikoff 
one day saw her, and in his turn was fascinated by the romance 
of her story and the beauty of her person. He begged her as a 
present from the General. Martha was called in to decide 
whether she would go with the Prince or stay, the advantages of 
both alternatives being fairly set before her. She made a deep 
courtesy to the two gentlemen and retired, not having spoken a 
word. There can be little doubt in what capacity she lived with 
the Prince, at whose house the Czar one day saw her, and in his 
turn succumbed to her persuasive influence. In the year 1704 
she, being then seventeen years of age, became the Czar's mistress, 
and afterwards his empress, first by a private and then by a public 
marriage, and finally, at his decease, autocrat of All the Russians. 
. The Czar got deeply attached to her, and was never happy when 
' my Catharine ' was absent. She was cheerful and lively, of a 
sweet, pliable disposition ; never peevish or perverse ; and moved 
around her bear of a husband, anticipating his every want. She 
bore the burden of the honour to which she had not been born 
with meekness and lowliness, and never forgot her humble birth 
and upbringing. 

[to be continued.] 






Subscription. — One copy, per year, 50 cents. Single num- 
bers 10 cents. 

J|@° : ' Correspondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of A. Williams 

Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month, 
are requested to notify us at once. The Muse will be issued 
monthly during term time, or nine numbers a year, and adver- 
tisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a year's con- 
tract. All matters on business should be addressed to the 
Muse, St. Mary's School, Ealeigh, N. C. 

Our city subscribers will hereafter find the Muse at the book- 
store of A. Williams & Co. Mr. Harrell, the junior partner of 
that obliging and enterprising firm, is authorized to receive sub- 
scriptions for the next year. 

Days and hours, hearts and minds are all full of preparation 
for the Commencement exercises. How varied are the interests 
concentrated upon the momentous week ! Hard study for the 
final examinations; ceaseless practice for musical and literary 
performances ; Calisthenic drills, <fcc, &c, keep us pretty busy. 
And yet we strongly suspect that most of us find time to spare a 
few thoughts on Flora McFlimsey's troublesome question — as 
well as on its cousin-german "Whom shall we invite to the 
reception ?" 

But then over our mind sweeps a shadow of the measles, as it 
runs through school at such a pace as makes us think maybe 


nothing will come of our efforts after all. For "A," and "B" and 
"C" seem such important characters that if they should be sick 
just then, we surely could do nothing without them. 

Then, dreadful thought to each of us! "Suppose '/' should 
'catch it' just at the end, and lying on my sick bed should hear the 
omnibus roll up, and sounding its merry horn, carry off troops of 
happy girls and leave me behind to pine for health and home." 
But " away with melancholy !"— Buoyant Hope asserts herself 
and wins us to her bright and comforting side. 

Meanwhile mathematical problems haunt our sleeping hours. 
Visions of compositions and concerts ; chronology and chemistry ; 
costumes and calisthenics ; poetry and prosaic " themes ;" dance 
through our brains in inextricable confusion. Then comes sweet 
Hope, again and again, and pointing to the end whispers, "beauti- 
ful order will soon be evolved from all this chaos ; remember 
your own legend, ' Finis Coronat Opus.' " 

The Arkites will be interested to know that their antediluvian 
abode has succumbed to the waves of " modern improvement." 
Its inmates, emigrating westward (guided perhaps by the "star of 
empire"), have found rest in what they are pleased to call the 
" Aviary" of the West Bock-House. The Department of Music 
has taken possession of the deserted building and converted it into 
a " Cokseevatoeium " of Fine Arts. No longer shall sweet 
sounds of melody meet our ears at every door and landing place, 
for the pianos are all to be moved to the multitudinous rooms 
prepared over there for their reception. Query: Is the Director 
ready for our congratulations upon the perpetual serenade of 
mingled sounds which is to fall upon his devoted ears from this 
time forth ? Two new pianos have taken the places of old ones, 
and we doubt whether any school can boast of a " Department of 
Music" as complete as that of St. Mary's under its energetic and 
accomplished Director. 

We give a copy of the Programme of Commencement Week. 
As may be seen, the exercises will begin with the services of 
Sunday, June 6th. Bishop Atkinson's continued ill-health throws 
many of his appointed visitations upon his Assistant ; so that we 


fear lest Bishop Lyman, after all, may not be able to preach the 
sermon before the school. But if so, he will appoint a substitute 
who doubtless will be most acceptable to us all. The rest of the 
programme, we hope, will be strictly carried out, and hereby an 
invitation is extended to all former pupils, to friends of the 
school, and to strangers who may be in the city, to allow us the 
pleasure, of seeing them during the week. 


Sunday, June 6. 



Monday, June 7. 


Preparatory Class Entertainment, 8 p. m. 

Tuesday, June 8. 
^Examinations from 9 till 2. 
French and German Recitations, 8 p. m 

Wednesday, June 9. 
^Examinations from 9 till 2. 
Musical and Literary Recital, 8 p. m. 

Thursday, June 10. 

Commencement Exercises at 10 a. m. 
Annual Meeting of the Alumna at 3 p. m. 
Graduates' Reception at 8:30 p. m. 

*Examinations not public. 


Assension-Day is never a holiday at St. Mary's. Kather is it 
kept as one of the five great Festivals of the Church, and has a 
peculiar interest, as being the one Holy-day, when we all, day- 
scholars and boarders, unite in the Eucharistic Feast as one flock 
of the Good Shepherd of us all. The services are necessarily 
long, and when they are concluded school work is suspended for 
the rest of the day. 

On Saturday the vigil of Whitsunday, the Assistant Bishop of 
the Diocese made his annual visitation to St. Mary's. Evening 
Prayer was read by the Rector, the Revs. J. E. C. Smedes and E. 
R. Rich being also present. At the appointed time eight young 
girls presented themselves as candidates for the sacred rite of Con- 
firmation. When the solemn " sealing" was over the Bishop ad- 
dressed them in words of earnest feeling and affectionate exhor- 
tations that their lives might be answerable to their profession 
and not conformed to this world, as is so sadly the case with many 
who call themselves Christians. May his earnest words abide in 
their hearts always, and in time of temptation recur to them with 
all the solemnity of that hallow'd hour 

" When beckon'd up the awful choir 

By>pastoral hands towards Christ they drew; 
When trembling at the sacred rail, 

They hid their eyes and held their breath, 
Felt Him how strong, their hearts how frail, 

And longed to own Him to the death. 
Forever on their souls be traced 

That blessing dear, that dove-like hand, 
A sheltering rock in Memory's waste, 

O'ershadowing all the weary land." 

Arrangements have been made for enlarging and improving 
the Muse next year. New subscriptions begin with the June 
number. Terms §1 a year. 

The last Monthly Recital of the session, which was prepared 
for Saturday, 22d inst., is necessarily omitted, on account of the 
indisposition of several young ladies to whom prominent parts 
had been assigned. 

New " Catalogues " are in the printer's hands, and will be 
ready for circulation by the 24th inst. 


. We have heard of a certain clergyman of " moderate " views, 
who being invited to dine with the "Fathers" of a ritualistic 
"brotherhood," was treated, according to his own account, to "cod- 
fish for dinner and Jeremy Taylor for dessert." Wholesome and 
most excellent every-day fare, but rather lugubrious for the gas- 
tronomic taste of our Rev. friend at holiday seasons. So do we 
find " Butler and Paley " most edifying companions ordinarily, 
and mean them no disrespect when we acknowledge to a thrill of 
gratification at the prospect of a respite from them for a few 
days. Our Rev. Rector gives us this indulgence because the 
Diocesan Convention meets at Winston next week, and his pres- 
ence there is so important as to compel him to lay aside minor 
duties during its session. We wish him a pleasant visit to the 
headquarters of our good " Church Messenger," and assure him 
we will make the best use of the leisure hours his absence gives 


Our " Prize Questions " were completed in the last issue, and 
the prizes for the largest number of correct answers were an- 
nounced. For the benefit of any who may not have seen the 
April number, and also may wish to compete for either of the 
three prizes, we quote : 

" The prize offered for the largest number of correct answers 
in the Senior Series is Ten Dollars worth of Music, to be 
selected from any catalogue. That for the largest number in the 
Junior Series is a volume of Poems by some distinguished Eng- 
lish or American author." 

All competitors for the prizes to be awarded at the Commence- 
ment (10th of June), must send in their answers on or before the 
first day of June. 

So much interest has been manifested in these questions, that 
we have determined to give an additional prize to any girl who 
will send the largest number of correct answers to the entire series 


of 100 questions. This will be Free Tuition at St. Mary's School 
for One Term, in the English Course, in Music, or in Art — at her 
option. It is understood that the answers must amount to not less 
than three-fourths of the whole number of questions proposed in 
the series chosen, and also that the competitors must have ob- 
tained the answers by their own study, and without assistance 
from others. They are open to school-girls or students of any 


On Friday afternoon, May 14th, in pursuance of a call 
through the morning newspapers, about fifty ladies, former pupils 
of St. Mary's, assembled in the Sunday School room of Christ 
Church. A spirited and stirring address was made by Bishop 
Lyman (a synopsis of which we hope to give our readers), ex- 
plaining to the ladies the reason why they had been called to- 
gether, and in his own hearty way, saying such good words of St. 
Mary's as went straight to the hearts of all present. 

The following "paper" was then read, and by vote of the 
meeting, ordered to be " published in the Muse," and a copy sent 
to every old scholar whose name and address could be discovered : 

" To the former Pupils of St. Mary's School : 

" The "Association of the Alumnae of St. Mary's " was organ- 
ized on Thursday, June 19, 1879. Mrs. Wm. Boylan, by virtue 
of her seniority among those present, was elected President, Mrs. 
C. D. Myers, of Wilmington, Vice-President, Miss Kate McKim- 
mon, Secretary and Treasurer, and Mrs. R. S. Tucker, Mrs. 
Wm.E. Cox and Mrs. George Snow were appointed a committee 
to draw up a constitution. 

"It is desired to add to the names then enrolled, as many 
others as can be obtained, of former pupils, whether residents in 
Raleigh or elsewhere, and to secure as large an attendance as 
possible, at the first annual meeting of the association, which will 
take place on Thursday, June 10th, immediately after the clos- 


ing services of the academic year, in the Chapel of the School. 
At that time a constitution and by-laws will be presented for con- 
sideration and adoption, when the association will be prepared to 
enter upon its work. 

"Our object is not only to maintain a friendly interest in each 
other's welfare, and to preserve a cordial affection and good-will 
for our Alma Mater, but to give tangible expression to those senti- 

"It has been proposed that the fee for membership ($1 per year 
from each) shall be appropriated to founding one or more scholar- 
ships for the education of orphan or needy daughters of our old 
school-mates, or of others whose claim upon us may be judged 
to be equally strong. Piteous tales of girls growing up without 
the educational advantages to which by birth they are entitled ; 
enquiries as to the existence of free scholarships (which are so 
common in other church schools) ; application for reduced rates, 
and the like, are constantly coming to us. These appeals have 
suggested the desire to provide a fund which may be relied upon 
for aid to meet them,iand we must begin the good work without 

"By the kindness of Rev. Mr. Smedes we are authorized to say 
that $250.00 a year will provide a full scholarship— board and 
tuition. Among the thousands of Christian women all over our 
land who look back with loving gratitude to what St. Mary's has 
done for them, surely a sufficient number may be found to con- 
tribute so small an amount yearly from the abundance, or even 
from the poverty, which God has given them. 

"In former days these scholarships were uncalled for. The 
large-hearted benevolence of our revered founder was to some ex- 
tent supplemented by the fortune which many years of labor had 
amassed ; and it is well known that his private means were un- 
sparingly used in the free education, and often in the support of 
his scholars. 

"The present Rector inherits the spirit of benevolence, but alas ! 
the means are no longer at hand to enable him to continue his 
unbounded liberality. 


"Then what more appropriate tribute to that father can be im- 
agined, than that we his "daughters," rising up to call him blessed, 
should carry on in some measure the good work which so beauti- 
fully illustrated his life, and for which he is doubtless now reap- 
ing a glorious reward ? 

"Let us, therefore, one and all — old and young — unite in this 
work and have the happiness of seeing it year by year bringing 
forth fruit an hundred fold in furnishing some child of our adop- 
tion with all that can make her a holy and useful member of soci- 
ety and of our own sisterhood. 

"From every town and every house where dwells an old St. 
Maryite we hope for a response. We ask the co-operation of all 
in gathering up the names and present addresses of former pupils, 
and beg that they may be forwarded as early as possible to Miss 
Kate McKimmon, St. Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C." 

The meeting was very successful in arousing the interest of the 
ladies present. Many names were added to the nucleus begun 
last year, and on motion, it was resolved to call another meeting 
on Friday, 21st inst., that such as had not been aware of this, 
may have the opportunity of signifying their wish to join the 
association before the formal annual meeting on June 10th. 


(Founded 1842.) 





This School now offers inducements such as have never before 
been afforded by any school in the South. 

In addition to its acknowledged PRE-EMINENCE in point of 
the special advantages claimed are : 

1st. A Corps of Twelve Teachers, carefully selected, with 
a view to fitness for their respective positions, and therefore 
thorough, efficient and enthusiastic in their work. 

2nd. A School of Languages, with eight teachers. 

English is regarded as of the first importance, and receives 
special attention in two comprehensive and thorough courses, 
Preparatory and Academic. 

Latin, by a graduate of the University of Virginia. 

French, after Sauveur's conversational method, by a French 
lady whose ability is best shown by the results of her teaching. 

German scholars have the advantage of conversation and 
reading with a highly educated native German. 

3rd. The Best Equipped Musical Department in the 
South, consisting of 16 pianos, a cabinet organ, a magnificent new 
pipe organ of 2 manuals and 20 stops — the largest for school 
purposes in the United States — and the only PEDAL PIANO south 
of New York. Eugene Thayer, the finest pedal player in this 
country, recommends its use as the only way to acquire correct 

4th. The use of Music of the Highest Order, as shown 
by the programmes of the monthly Recitals. 

5th. A Vocal Teacher, from the Royal Leipzig Conserva- 
tory. This lady possesses a beautiful soprano voice, thoroughly 
developed. As a proof of her superior cultivation, it is only 
necessary to state that she has sung in the world-renowned 
Gewandhaus concerts. 

6th. An Art Department, lately refitted with the best models 
from Europe, and under the charge of a teacher from Cooper 
Institute, who has had the additional advantage of constant study 
and practice under one' of our finest artists. 

The Principal is determined that the advantages offered by St. 
Mary's in every department shall be unsurpassed. 

The 76th Term begins Friday, January 30th, 1880. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars, address the 

t, Mary's School, 


The Department of Music offers great inducements to young 
ladies wishing to obtain a thorough knowledge of music in all 
its branches. In order to meet the requirements of advanced 
organ instruction, a fine new PIPE ORGAN of TWO MANUALS and 
TWENTY STOPS has been placed in the Chapel, and the only 
Pedal Piano South of New York is at the service of organ stu- 
dents. A vocalist from the Koyal Leipzig Conservatory has been 
added to the corps of teachers, and no pains or expense will be 
spared to make this the first musical school in the South. 

Persons outside of the School can make arrangements for 
either Piano, Organ or Vocal Lessons by applying to the Director 
of Music. 

The South-Atlantic, 


PAUL H. HAYNE, - Editorial Contributor. 

Subscript/on one year $3. Single Copy, 30c. 


1 page, one insertion, $25 




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Editor and Proprietor, Wilmington, N. C.